


How To Steal A Million

by psychicScavenger



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Based on How to Steal A Million, Burglar Shiro, Inspired by a Movie, Lance is biracial, Lotor isnt a bad guy here, M/M, Not really part of the story but its mentioned in chapter 8?, Shiro is biracial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-11-06 04:38:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 41,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11028792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychicScavenger/pseuds/psychicScavenger
Summary: Lance's father is a world renowned art collector, except the world doesn't know that almost all his 'long lost pieces' are actually forgeries. When his father makes the mistake to put a valuable sculpture in a famous museum that can threaten to expose them, Lance turns to a life of crime with the help of a charming burglar he had met previously.





	1. Forgery

**Author's Note:**

> This au is based off the Audrey Hepburn movie How To Steal A Million. It's on Netflix and lately I've been on a older movie au hype. So I hope any shance fan enjoys.

The crowd hummed with excitement, only the wealthiest of France’s citizens and neighboring countries were there for one of the biggest art auctions of the year. Paintings and sculptures floated about, being sold left and right with bids high into the hundreds of thousands price range. The room broke into a murmur after the auctioneer banged his gavel having successfully sold a painting for 90,000 dollars.

“And now ladies and gentlemen, Number 34 on the front cover of your catalogues, Color Palette 16, _Portrait of Madam do Nemurs_ by Cezanne!”

The crowd hum turned into a loud murmur as each person there expressed interest in the colorful portrait. A few flash photographers took pictures of the exquisite portrait currently for sale. In the corner of the room a man in his mid 50s stood off to the side, a few sweat drops furrowing his brow which he quickly wiped away with his handkerchief before anyone noticed. He smiled watching people get excited over his painting as many continued to point and whisper over the auctioneer’s booming voice.

“Now, because of the interest in this painting, we are keeping telephone lines open to our buyers in London and New York. This great painting is from the world famous Ramirez-McClain collection, sold by order of the present head of the family, Monsieur Fernando Alexander Ramirez-McClain.” All heads in the room turned to the man in the corner, clapping and some even thanking him for his wonderful piece. Fernando smiled and shook hands with a couple people, keeping up his humble appearance and all. Right away the auctioneer started the bidding starting at 200,000 dollars. As the auctioneer kept asking for more and more, Fernando felt a new sweat drip down his brow, that of excitement and adrenaline.

                                                                                                  ********

Miles away, a young man sped down the Paris city streets in his tiny blue car, wind flying through his short dark hair as he listened to the radio. He paused at a stop sign and turned the radio up slightly hearing something peak his interest. The man listened interested as he heard the radio host drone on about a big art auction from early that day.

_“And now in the world of art; In an auction of notable impressionist masterpieces, the highest price paid was for a Cezanne portrait from the great private collection of Fernando Alexander Ramirez-McClain. Sold after a spirited bidding for 700,000 dollars.”_

The young mans eyes widened after that and he quickly shot down the road, pass the speed limit, towards the destination of his childhood home. The man cut across traffic, taking a few daring turns and cutting off other cars to get home. His driving wasn’t exactly the best, yet he wouldn’t admit that to anyone in his life. Being the only son bore by his father and late mother, he was the single heir to continue the Ramirez-McClain line and had the best money could offer.

The only thing he felt guilty about of course was how his family even came across that kind of money.

Which is why he pushed himself through school, studying many languages which he was fluent in now, and landing a decent paying job as a France diplomat translator after college.

Finally making it into the circle stone path driveway, the man parked his car, not even taking the keys out as he hopped over the doors and raced up the front stone steps leading into the modest two story mini mansion.

Entering the house he called out to the butler with a polite greeting, “Evening Marcel,” as he begun taking off his driving gear, consisting of gloves, a scarf, and sunglasses.

“Good evening monsieur.” Marcel greeted politely taking the discarded driving gear and neatly placing them away and out of sight.

“Is my father home?”

“Yes, he’s upstairs. Shall I call for him?” 

“No thank you, I’ll just go up.” The young man flashed Marcel, their family’s long term butler, a grateful smile as he shrugged out of his jacket and promptly hurried up the plush carpeted staircase to the second floor, to his fathers room.

He quickly opened the door without knocking, which normally his father would be up in arms about manners but considering he wasn’t in a polite mood, it was best to just confront his father unexpected.

“Papa?” he called, looking around the massive room. His eyes landed on the huge portrait of a young pale woman hanging above the bed, his deceased mother. Her skin glowing and blue eyes sparkling with mischief, like her sons, and a coy, secretive smile gracing her lips. He always liked to look at her picture, as it was the one painting his father did that was his own and not plagiarized like the others. He glanced away looking around for any sign of his father until his eyes landed on the wardrobe next to the window.

Groaning, he marched over and yanked the doors open before crawling inside and shoving the back panel away, revealing a secret passage with stairs leading up to the attic. He remembered to close the passageway before heading up there as the passageway was only something he and his father knew about, a small secret revealed on his birthday when he was 18.

“Papa?” He called again, climbing the small spiral staircase to the attic, knowing his father was most likely hiding up there with his..little hobby. The man entered the attic through another secret panel to find his father sitting at his easel on the stool, leaning over another painting as usual. At the sound of the young man clearing his throat, his father looked up and smiled brilliantly.

“Hola mi hijo!” he called cheerful. The young man sighed before coming over to his father and placing a small kiss on his cheek.

“Hello Papa.” He stated, hoping to keep his voice firm. His father merely waved him away, “I’m covered in paint mi hijo.”

“Not to mention money! I heard all about the auction on the radio. Papa, we gotta have a serious talk.”

“My Lance, it was a triumph! I could’ve sold a dozen Cezannes on the spot!”

“More?! One’s enough, more than enough! This has got to stop!” Lance cried, looking dismayed as his father shushed him repeatedly shooing him away once again to look at something behind Lance.

“Just a moment. One moment son.” He pleaded looking between his painting and what Lance recognized to be a projector showing off the signature of Vincent Van Gogh and knew what his father was trying to do.

“Ahhh. You know, it was nice of Van Gogh to use only his last name to sign his masterpieces.” Lance watched as his father went through the other slides, all focusing on closeups of some of Van Gogh’s famous paintings, more specifically showing off his infamous signature.

“I can sign his name in half the time I usually do.” Lance watched his father bend over his own painting with a magnifying glass, inspecting his signing handiwork. “There. Perfecto!” With a flourish and proud gleam in his eye, he shut off the projector and put down his magnifying glass. Lance sighed, shaking his head.

“Not again, Papa. Isn’t it too soon?” Lance groaned in disbelief. His father shook his head.

“This long-lost masterpiece won’t be sold for a long time. We will hang it, to be admired, and who knows? In time, some looney tycoon may be able to persuade me to part with it.” He grinned wickedly as if already picturing the dollar signs floating around his head. Lance crossed his arms, not amused.

“You’re such a scoundrel.” Lance muttered, yet a slight smile on his face as he began to clean up his fathers mess, grabbing his paintbrushes and a dish of what looked like ash in it. Probably from smoking, perhaps?

“Thank you my child. Ah! Lance! My dirt!” His father urgently grasped the dish and took it from Lance’s hands. Lance pouted as his father placed it away from him, like Lance was a small child again and going to break something..which to be fair his father had a point. He had been a klutzy kid back then.

“This is no ordinary dirt you know. This is Van Gogh dirt. Dirt from his own neighborhood.” Lance stepped away, sitting on a small stool, staring at his father.

“It’s as though I scraped the dirt off from his old 19th century canvases myself. Like this!” Lance watched his fathers demonstration, the palette knife making gentle scraping noises against the rough linen of the old canvas.

“It took me weeks. It’s a nice touch of authenticity, don’t you think? I doubt very much if Van Gogh himself would’ve gone to such pains with his work.” His father grumbled, Lance rolling his eyes before leaning forward to catch his fathers gaze.

“Yes he did, he suffered from mental illness Papa, he _was_ Van Gogh.” Lance stated pointedly. His father merely gave him a wheezing laugh in response.

“But of course, the genius man, his life taken too early. Only lived to see one painting of his sold. Whereas I, in loving memory of his great tragic genius, have already sold two.” His eyebrows wiggled up and down. Lance held up his hands in defeat.

“Papa I keep telling you: When you sell a fake masterpiece, that is a _crime_. You will go to _jail_ Papa! Jail!” Lance recited, emphasizing crime and jail to get things through to his stubborn father. As usual, it didn’t work.

“But I don’t sell them to just anybody off the streets or the marketplace, I only sell them to millionaires then they get great paintings like this one.” He finished, gesturing to the colorful Van Gogh he was copying. Lance was about to retort when the sound of whistles blowing caught both their interests.

Curious, Lance headed towards the round attic window, peering out til he saw a group of police escorting a shiny black model with another car and two vans pulling up behind the black car. Lance looked on interested as they pulled into their driveway. His eyes popped wider and a gasp left his mouth as he motioned for his father to come over.

“Papa! Police!”

“Police?!” His father cried in alarm, halfway pulling on his jacket. He finished putting on his jacket, before taking a cloth and covering up the copied masterpiece. Lance continued to stare at him urgent as he hurried over to his son, gently pulling him against him, rubbing his arm for comfort.

They peered down, watching as a group of police stood neatly in a row alongside the police van, with two guarding alongside the shiny black car, and the driver opening the door for its VIP passenger. A man in a black suit, trilby, and cane climbed out, walking towards the stone steps with confidence and ease. Fernando smiled, chuckling a little as he faced his son, fear no longer showing on his face.

“What a shock you gave me Lance! It’s just the Director of the Kleber-Lafayette Museum. Come to ask about our Cellini Venus.” He said casually, breezing past his stunned son as he turned away from the window. Lance whisked around catching the last part of his fathers words.

_“What about the Cellini Venus?!”_

“Our Cellini Venus is to be the outstanding feature of a great loan exhibition: “Masterpieces of French Collections.”” He grinned, quickly washing his paint covered hands, cleaning them as thoroughly as he could. Lance stared agape and hurried over to his father who was now exiting the attic through the secret passageway.

“Not to the public Papa?” Lance begged.

“Oh yes!” He grinned pushing the door open.

“Oh no!” Lance cried out, as he gripped his fathers shoulders trying to physically stop him.

His father continued moving, undeterred, and ignoring his sons pleas to make him listen to reason.

“Wait a minute, Papa! You can’t let it out of the house!” Lance begged. His father kicked in the false wardrobe drawer, revealing a small step as he swung the door to the wardrobe open, entering his bedroom and using the step to help him down to the floor.

“Now don’t fuss!” His father told him sternly, having heard the same argument over and over.

“But Papa, this is serious!” Lance stated hands on hips. His father, now shrugging on a small robe over his clothes to look more like a wealthy, highly educated art collector would look like, paused in his costume arrangements to whisper instructions while pointing towards the still opened secret passageway Lance had yet to close. With a disgruntled sigh, Lance headed over to close the wardrobe before facing his father again, combing his hair and getting ready to meet the museum director. He opened his bedroom door to briefly alert his guests of his presence.

“We’re coming, Monsieur Sendak!” He called hearing a “Take your time!” from downstairs. Lance shut the door, pressing all his weight against it to glare at his father.

“Papa I beg you, listen to me!”

“Do you see any paint anywhere? Do I smell of paint?” he leaned down to sniff his palms, ignoring Lance’s pleading in the background, as he hovered behind his father at his vanity.

“Will you listen to me? The Cellini Venus is a fake,”

“We don’t use that word in this household.” His father chided him and continued to his task of grooming ignoring his sons dramatic eye rolls.

“Papa, its too dangerous! I can’t let you do this!” Lance repeated as his father sprayed on his cologne, even accidentally catching Lance in the spray he sputtered and spat the nasty taste out of his mouth as much as he could. When it was clear his father wasn’t going to hear him out, Lance went for plan two.

He cleared his throat, and blocked both the doors from his father as he turned to exit. He had pulled similar stunts when he was a child whenever his father would go out and leave him alone with the nanny and homework. In the past he had simply chuckled, patting his sons head promising to take him on his next adventure out yet this time the man sighed and gave Lance a hard look.

“Look my son, this is my decision as head of this household. The Venus is going! Now come along, you’ll like Monsieur Sendak! He’s like a pouty kitten!” Lance turned up his nose at the request.

“No I won’t! I think I’ll just stay here and never let you out. You can’t make me.” He folded his arms, pointedly not looking at his father which may have been his downfall. Fernando gave his son a sly smile as he crept up towards his son and quickly aimed for his sides, knowing how ticklish he was. His reaction was immediate, Lance was soon doubling over laughing so hard begging his father to stop until he managed to get his son away from the door.

“Come along now Lance!” His father called, racing out the door when the coast was clear. Lance sighed, grasping his sides as he pulled himself up to head downstairs after his father and nervously bit his lip, feeling dread sink his heart. With a quick fix of his wrinkled shirt and pants, Lance headed downstairs to his waiting father and director.


	2. The Cellini

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prized Venus by Cellini makes its debut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kinda obsessed with Shance old movie aus so I'm gonna update this pretty often I think.

“Ahh my dear Sendak! How kind of you to come in person!” 

“Good evening Ramirez-McClain.” Sendak stepped forward, shaking Fernando’s hand while Lance watched as he timidly crept down the stairs.

“My pleasure sir, I can assure you! Marcel, the doors!” Fernando cried with a flourish of his hand. Marcel nodded before stalking off towards the study, located behind a pair of decorated heavy doors. Fernando headed over to Lance who was still standing by the staircase, unwilling to join the conversation.

“Allow me to present my son, Lance.” Fernando smiled taking Lance’s hand to introduce him when Lance kept his firm grip on the bannister, refusing to move. Fernando chuckled awkwardly, gently tugging on his sons hand till Lance relented and crossed the hallway to greet Sendak.

“Delighted, monsieur.” Sendak greeted, shaking Lance’s hand politely with a small smile which Lance grimaced in response.

“Good evening.” He gritted through his teeth. Sendak merely gave him a confused look before turning to see the last door opened and be greeted with the most stunning visual he’d ever seen.

“Ah that must be the Venus..” He whispered in awe although his face was as stony as Lance first saw him. The few assistants and guards who arrived along with him, also peered into the room to awe the beauty of the marbled statuette.

The white marbled statuette by Cellini was showcased in a groove in the wall, purposefully built to showcase the fine beauty. The arabesque figure of a man posed sensually, tilting his head invitingly, welcomed Sendak as he slowly approached, taking it all in. Lance began tugging his hand away from his fathers grasp hoping to maybe distract Sendak or tell him the statuette wasn’t leave their house, but his father kept his firm grip, to warn Lance to keep quiet. His father stepped away however when Sendak approached closer and hurried further into the room.

“Allow me.” He added and with a flick of the lights, light greeted the statuette, giving it a warm glow which appealed to Sendak even more.

“I remember it as a work of art, but it is so much more,” Sendak breathed, eyes tracing over the nude figurine which creeped Lance out a little. These men were basically drooling over a statue of his naked grandfather his grandmother had made. Of course if he was to voice this out, his father would probably shoot him himself with one of the antique pistols hanging on the walls.

“My friend, I express my own, and the museum’s gratitude for your generous loan, and I thank you on behalf of France itself for never letting this treasure leave the country. I know of the offers you must have had and how tempting they must have been. I understand you emigrated here over 20 years ago yes?” Sendak asked curious. 

“Yes, indeed. You see I met my lovely Alana McClain here in Paris where she emigrated from Ireland and I from Cuba, we stayed here since, both having loved the city of lights and the idea of starting a wonderful family. Sadly she passed away with complications due to her second pregnancy and I wept strongly for her and my unborn child each and every day, but I was blessed with one miracle, my son Lance here.” Lance smiled gently as his father gave him an adoring look.

“I’ve stayed even though I could’ve gone back to my country of birth but France calls me in such a way other countries could not. It would be devastating for me to break France’s heart like that, by giving away a piece of itself to another country.” Fernando beamed, a few tears breaking out for effect. Lance would’ve rolled his eyes at the overly dramatic display but he also found it amusing to see how well it was working on Sendak.

“Eloquently put.” Sendak nodded his appreciation and gestured for his assistants to bring forth the traveling case specifically made to carry the Venus. Lance watched with the same dreadful feeling at the pit of his stomach as his father reached for the Venus.

“I’ll get it Papa,” Lance offered stepping in his fathers place only to be waved away. His father yanked on a pair of gloves and picked up the statue, the small thing looking a bit more heavier than you’d think and Lance could see his father struggle.

“Look just let me help,” Lance began only to flinch away from his fathers gaze.

“Lance.” His father interrupted sternly, giving him a look. He presented it to Sendak, who looked like he was being offered the entire world right then.

“Into your hands, my dear Sendak. I give this, our ultimate treasure.”

“Me?” Sendak gulped. He quickly pulled on a pair of gloves as if prepared for such a moment like this which Lance wasn’t discrete this time when rolling his eyes, catching a disgruntled look from one of Sendak’s assistants. While Sendak and his father were busy being super careful about the transfer of the fake Venus, Lance idly looked over at the granite display block the statue typically sat upon. It’d be a shame if Lance were to deliver it and accidentally drop it on the Venus…

Plan in mind, Lance took the block and walked over to the case for the Venus. As Sendak and the assistants fussed over the placement of the Venus, Lance bent forward about to drop the block, when his father swooped in, grabbing the block from his hands, pushing Lance back and giving him a silent scolding gaze as if Lance were five and throwing a tantrum again.

The block was placed in the case and then sealed up. Before Lance could blink, the men were closing up the crate, adding more foam inside to protect the Venus while the guards watched intensely. Lance stood in the foyer while he and his father watched the assistants and guards board the artwork into one of the cars that followed Sendak, before the whole party took off, sirens and all, down to the museum.

Lance sighed, as Marcel closed the front door. Lance hurried back to the study where his father was, leaning against the wall staring at the blank space where the Cellini stood.

“Papa what have you done?” Lance asked grimly. It was only a matter of time before they were figured out as frauds. His father didn’t respond focusing on the empty space.

“The room doesn’t look the same without him. Hmmm.” He looked around before making an aha! noise and plucked a small bouquet of flowers, placing the stems in his champagne glass. He laughed delighted like a child as he placed them in the spot where the Cellini stood.

He gave a wheezing laugh looking back to see if his son was laughing as well only finding a stern gaze on his sons face, and also his impatient tapping foot. His father grimaced at his sons expression before looking away, finding something to distract him.

“Papa…”

“What have I done? I’m giving the world a precious opportunity to study and view the Cellini Venus.” His father waved him off, heading to sit in one of the chairs in the lounge. Lance followed him, he was going to make it clear to his father exactly what he had done.

“Which is not by Cellini.” Lance pointed out. His father groaned, picking up a glass and pouring  a scotch for himself.

"Ah labels, labels. It’s working with the Americans that has given you this obsession with labels and brand names. I wish you’d give up that ridiculous job.” His father retorted, ignoring Lance’s gaping expression.

“My job isn’t ridiculous! What’s ridiculous is you thinking you can pull this off! You can’t fake sculpture anymore Papa. It’s not like painting.” Lance explained as he sat next to his father.

“I know, I know all about their so-called tests.”

“They’re not ‘so-called’ Papa, they’re legit!” His father merely shrugged as Lance tried to find something else to explain to his father.

“Look Papa, one quick whiff of something called potassium argon, and they can tell the age of the stone, where it was quarried, when it was cut, and probably the name and address of the man who did it.” Lance explained, watching his father nod along like he didn’t believe him.

“Look Lance, I know all this. Why do you think I never sold it? I was offered recently actually. Oh it gives me a twinge just thinking about it.” Lance watched his fathers eyes sparkle whenever he thinks about the amount he’s given for a painting he’s sold.

“I was offered two hundred thousand dollars, but I wouldn’t sell it. I’m not even charging the museum for borrowing it, why should they test it?” Fernando reasoned and then broke into another wheezing laugh while Lance sunk back into the couch cushions defeated. His father wasn’t going to listen to him apparently and he was too tired for this conversation again.

“Did you hear Sendak say 100,000 souvenir postcards? They’ll be mailed all over the world to potential clients! All because our Venus! Don’t you get a kind of a thrilling rush from that?” Fernando asked, leaning down to his son who was rubbing his head tired.

“A headache is what I get Papa when I think about all the trouble you could get in.” Lance complained. His father pouted at his mopey son.

“The trouble with you is that you’re too honest.” He grumbled looking away briefly till he caught his sons upset expression.

“Ohh I’m sorry mi hijo, I don’t mean to say that to hurt your feelings. Your mother was an honest woman too, it warms my heart to see how much you become like her everyday.” Fernando apologized and placing a small kiss on his sons temple.

“Papa, I can’t handle these conversations anymore, I get dizzy now every time we have them.” Lance groaned, earning a chuckle from his father. 

“What you need is a brandy.” He answered, getting up to prepare his son a drink. Lance followed, not really listening to his father much anymore as he raved on about their Cellini Venus.

“Mi hijo, what you must try to understand is that I am pleased that our Cellini is a forgery. If it was genuine, where would it be? A piece of sculpture made centuries ago by some overrated Italian jackass. Whereas our Cellini Venus is really our own. So be proud of it. Your own grandmother made it, with her beautiful sculpture making gifted hands. And your own grandfather posed for it!” Lance listened idly, mostly just drinking his brandy to take the edge off this conversation.

“For months he stood there, not moving a muscle whilst your grandmother perpetuated him in marble.” His father pulled out an old photograph now, showing off a young portrait of Lance’s grandfather, you could see his lanky but slight build, and bright grin resembling the spitting image of Lance when he was Lance’s age.

“Of course as you know, this was before he started eating those enormous lunches and drinking three beers per meal.” His father chuckled, Lance smiling in return. His father droned on about their family while Lance tried to drink the dreading feeling away.

                                                                                                 *********

Two days later, the Kleber-Layfayette Museum was filled to the masses, everyone eager to see the newest artwork on display, the Cellini Venus. Many wealthy aristocrats from France and visiting countries, flew to see the prized statuette. It was an exclusive night, with only the richest of clients, and even the guards wearing their highest honor uniforms, standing at guard every five feet in the museum while guests roamed about, filling the huge rooms with laughter and talk. The Cellini stood on a single pedestal by itself, as it was the most important feature of the collection. Velvet ropes cut off any access closer than five feet from it, an intricate high-tech security alarm preventing and detecting any slight movement near the Venus, and it would go off.

Many tycoons and lovers of art flocked to see it, wanting to throw their hat into the ring of potential buyers after it was finished being on display. One of these wealthy tycoons, was Lotor, an American who flew all the way to see the infamous Cellini, as he had heard stories about the intricate marble statuette. He was a fan of all things aesthetically pleasing after all, so he attended for fun until he saw the beauty itself. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he could think one thing only, he had to get his hands on that statue. As he watched the owner step up next to the pedestal, he took off back to his private car, ordering the driver to take him back to his hotel.

Pulling out his cell phone, he dialed a number to set his plan into action.

“Haggor, make sure you give this information to all parties concerned: cancel all travel arrangements and business meetings within the next three weeks. I’m remaining in Paris on urgent business regarding my art foundation. Also phone the Paris headquarters and have them do a rundown on Fernando Alexander Ramirez-McClain, this city, all members of his family, his art collection, and particularly the Cellini Venus which is on exhibition. I want all this information at my hotel first thing in the morning.” Lotor demanded and hung up. He leaned back in his seat, a grin growing on his face as he only thought of the marbled beauty back at the exhibition.

                                                                                                *********

In another part of town, outside the Ramirez-McClain household, the wrought iron ten foot tall gate, was quietly picked open, the gate making a rusty wheeze as it was forced open to allow a tall figure to slip inside the perimeters unseen. The figure dashed across the property, ignoring the grand staircase in favor of searching for a less inconspicuous entrance. The shadow stopped in front of an old functional servants entrance door, barely used from the looks of it. The figure grinned seeing this as his lucky day and quietly slipped inside the house unaware of its single occupant still at home.

                                                                                                *********

Lance laid in bed, nothing but an oversized t-shirt and boxer briefs on, as he eagerly read through one of the thrilling parts of Robert Bloch’s Psycho. The room was dark except for a single lamp, attached to his huge bed, providing him his only light source. His father had gotten on to him many times when he was younger for reading in the dark, ‘You’ll ruin your eyes mi hijo! Your mother would come back to haunt me if something happened to your beautiful blue eyes.’ Honestly his father could be overly dramatic at times, Lance had scoffed to himself.

He was the only occupant at home right now, his father away at the exhibition, no doubt chatting amicably with wealthy clients from all over the world about his ‘collection’. Lance had declined to go, saying he’d rather stay at home since he had work the next morning anyway. He and his father had also given the entire staff the night off, since there was really no need to keep them there so late.

As Lance continued to read, getting to a really thrilling part that was also admittedly scaring the shit out of him, when he heard a small clank that sounded like someone dropping something downstairs. Lance paused confused until he heard more shuffling and realized with fear, someone was in the house.


	3. A Thief in the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro makes his first appearance!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shiro's one flirty motherfucker, then again, Lance is super attractive so who wouldn't flirt with that?

He laid there still, straining to hear anything until he heard an abrupt squeak, like a chair being moved, then he sat up fully alert now. Lance quickly crawled out of bed and silently made his way to his bedroom door, gently opening the door in a way he learned how to when he was younger and learned to sneak past his father late at night. Lance crept down the hall, the shuffling noises getting louder as he went, till he reached the stairs midway, pausing to look over the bannister to peer into the lounge. He spotted a dark, tall figure standing in front of one of the paintings, making him reel back, sitting against the steps, hand to his mouth to prevent himself from screaming. The figure continued to mess with the painting, Lance wasn’t sure what the guy or girl was doing, but he swore he could spot a plastic baggy and the figure removing a piece of paint from the picture. Lance looked around, the phone was just on the other side of him down the stairs but he would have to get past the thief, and call Lance a pessimist all you want, he wasn’t risking his well-being just to even reach a phone he probably wouldn’t be able to call from anyways. 

He glanced up towards the wall where his father kept the family antique weaponry on display. He spotted his grandmothers old pistol that he was pretty sure, still had a few bullets in it, and figured even if it didn’t, chances are this burglar wasn’t even armed. Lance could just threaten this guy, call the cops, they’d take his ass to the slammer and Lance would be a hero for protecting the household. Maybe even retell the story to his future spouse one day and they''ll swoon over Lance's hero-ness? Okay so maybe Lance got his dramatics from his father a little bit. 

With his mind set, Lance slid away from the steps creeping against the wall, watching the figure continue to poke and prod the painting, what exactly was he doing anyways, reaching for the pistol trying to be as stealthy as possible. He gently pried the pistol off with a soft ‘click’ noise and paused as the noise echoed. He watched as the figure paused, possibly waiting to see if anyone was coming along. Lance kept still, holding his breath and almost let out a relieved sigh when the figure turned back to the painting, must have dismissed the noise. Lance gently cradled the pistol in his hand, turning it right so he could get a firm grip on it. He watched the burglar with dread, trying to convince himself to have the courage to face this person, but kept pulling himself back as he was about to charge in, literally guns a blazing. Finally he crept close enough to the lights, dramatic music blaring through his head, as he reached for the switch with a newfound sense of bravery, he flicked on the lights and quickly pointed his gun at the thief.

The thief spun around, painting in his clutches as he looked around confused and caught in the act till his gaze landed on Lance with the gun pointed at him and froze. Lance’s eyes widened as did the strangers, as they regarded each other. The thief wasn’t dressed like your stereotypical thief in the all black turtleneck and pants, instead he was wearing a tuxedo, like he had just came from an important event. His dark hair was shaved underneath and cropped short on top except for a small patch of white hair that hung in the center of his face and was a bit longer than the rest of his hair. His eyes were what drew Lance in the most, they were a stormy dark grey, almost looking black due to the lights as they regarded Lance with uncertainty and..is that amusement? Lance flushed as he remembered he was only in his boxer briefs and a huge t-shirt that hung off his shoulders a bit, showing off his long legs and collarbone. He bit his lip, hoping to keep his embarrassment down as he stepped forward, confronting the criminal.

“D-don’t move. Put down the painting.” Lance whispered, cursing his nerves for making him sound scared and not intimidating. The man just continued to look Lance up and down with his eyes as if he wasn’t believing what he was seeing.

“I said put it down!” Lance cried, holding the gun in two hands now as he stepped forward more. The man slowly moved the painting away from him, revealing more of his features to Lance. Lance breathed, seeing the strong chiseled jawline and broad shoulders and torso that flowed into a small waist. ‘Holy crap, I had to get a hot thief?’ Lance thought flushing as the man placed the painting down on the floor. Lance kept the gun facing him, as he stepped towards the phone and with the thief's hands up in the air, Lance grabbed the phone and began dialing.

“Uh Mr. Ramirez-McClain please,” the man stepped forward, accidentally knocking the painting over, startling him and Lance who thrust the gun forward again.

“Stay where you are!” The thief froze regarding Lance anxiously while Lance went back to the phone about to finish dialing when he glanced at the painting on the floor.

It was the Van Gogh his father had been working on days earlier, it had just been hung up in their home yesterday.

Lance paused, wondering why a thief would be messing with that painting when they hadn’t yet revealed to the world of its whereabouts just then. Call it coincidence but Lance could smell when something was too fishy.

He glanced from the painting back to the thief, who was still staring at him with curiosity, when Lance nodded toward the fallen painting.

“Why were you stealing that particular painting?” Lance asked, eyes shining bright. The thief seemed to mull over his answer carefully before giving Lance a gentle smirk. 

“It was the handiest.” he joked although it seemed to be more of a joke for himself. Lance looked at him again curiously and then noticed one of his hands wasn’t a real one like the other.

‘Good looking and funny, hes a real keeper,’ Lance thought sarcastically as he tried to figure out what to do.

“Look uh, don’t call the police, give me another chance.” He asked.

‘Okay so good looking, funny, but incredibly stupid, wow almost made the cut,’ Lance gave the man what he hoped was his strongest, 'are-you-kidding-me' face.   

“You see I was only taking one painting and you’ve got so many, chances were you wouldn’t have missed it. And my apartment is lacking in decor so…” the thief stopped, seeing how the other wasn’t laughing along with him.

“I’ll just put it back then, alright?” he asked placatingly. He grabbed the painting by its frame and began to hang it back on the wall, arranging it neatly as it was before.

“There we go, oh its beautiful. Pretty.” He chuckled turning to face Lance only to be met with a glare and he raised his hands back up in defeat. “Okay or maybe not.”

“You knew my father and the staff were out. How?” Lance pressed.

“It’s my business to know things like that. Look I-” he paused, as he was taking a step closer to Lance, but paused hearing the gun click.

“I’m sorry for frightening you, I thought you would be at the exhibition opening with your father. A big party like that and all?” The thief asked stepping around one of the marble columns, with Lance ducking around to keep the gun on the man.

“Anyways, uh, you frightened me, so we’re even now.” He offered stepping close to Lance despite the younger man’s steps back.

“Don’t be stupid.” Lance warned. The man chuckled seeing the gun and an idea clicked in his mind.

“That gun isn’t even loaded, is it?” He jested knowingly. Lance huffed and clicked the safety on, which he realized he had clicked it off earlier. A sudden thought came to his mind and he glanced back at the thief a new fear popping up.

“Do you have a gun?” He asked quietly. The man tilted his head confused.

“Sorry?” He asked almost disbelieving.

“Are you armed?” Lance demanded. The man gave Lance a look of disbelief as he uttered no and opened his jacket up, showing Lance he had nothing hidden. Oh man, that shirt couldn’t hide the obvious muscles this man was packing, Lance stared at his enormous pecs a bit longer till the man cleared his throat, hands no longer in the air.

"Well I-I’m gonna let you go then.” Lance admitted, more to himself, but mostly he couldn’t let this stranger leave with a fake painting and he certainly can't get the police involved and bring publicity about a painting that doesn’t technically exist. Lance loosened his grip on the gun, about to place it on the table as he spoke to the burglar.

“I don’t know why of course, but-“

 _POW!!_    

Lance dropped the gun, screaming as he sprinted up the stairs, a loud ringing in his ears as he fell back, watching as the criminal he just accidentally shot was on the ground.

‘Please tell me I didn’t just kill someone, please tell me he's okay,’ Lance pleaded internally, getting up from the stairs and slowly walking to the other man. He was lying down, but started easing up, his prosthetic hand, clutching his real arm under the jacket. Lance came forward to inspect the damage. The man gave Lance an unamused glance before revealing his hand, showing off the blood. Lance must’ve grazed his arm with the bullet. Lance looked away, feeling a little woozy when it comes to blood. Just as he felt slightly light headed, the man pitched forward, palm still out as he hit the floor, Lance following in his footsteps soon after.

Lance woke to someone patting his face gently, a gentle flapping from a jacket following soon after. It had probably only been a few seconds till he fainted as his ears were still ringing. He turned to the source of his fanner, the criminal who had been using his jacket to fan Lance awake. Now realizing he was, he leaned forward gesturing to his wound.

“I’m the one thats bleeding.” He stated pointedly. Lance quickly bolted up and pulled him to the kitchen area.

                                                                                         ***********

“What is that mess?” The man asked, pointing to a bottle of fluid, the younger man was messing with.

“it’s Iodine. It’s supposed to help.” The man shook his head.

“No thanks, it probably stings and I’m sure it’ll close up on its own.” Lance gave him a scathing look.

“For a burglar you’re not very brave are you?” Lance raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. The man scoffed in response.

“I’m a society burglar, I don’t expect for you people to be shooting at me.” He stated. Lance rolled his eyes and lifted the man’s arm, putting the gauze pad, soaked with iodine to the wound. The man jerked back, flinching but Lance kept a firm grip on his shoulder.

“Don’t be such a baby, man. It’s only a flesh wound. You have to expect some occupational hazards what with your choice of work apparently. I mean you broke in here to steal!” Lance babbled on, trying to focus on healing the man's injury and not the huge muscles rippling against the tight shirt material, the thief had rolled up past his elbows. His biceps were very impressive, almost like cement from what Lance could feel under his hand. 

“Yeah do you think we could talk about something else, its ruining the mood.” He replied, Lance rolled his eyes, preparing to clean up the mess, ignoring the man's words.

“Fine. An injury like this could keep me out of action like this for a week.” He complained.

“Well you could use this time to I don’t know, look for a better job? Look, its late, I’m tired, and I’ve got work in the morning.” Lance sighed. The man seemed surprised by that, leaning back to look up at him curiously, his stormy gray eyes piercing Lance’s.

“You work?” He asked, genuinely surprised.

“Yeah, some people do you know.”  Lance replied sarcastic. The man rolled his eyes and got up. He was about a couple feet taller than Lance, probably around six foot one while Lance was only five ten.

“Alright I’m going.” The man stated, getting up and shrugging on his jacket as they exited the kitchen.

“I’m not sure how to get home though, I’m afraid I can’t drive like this in my current state. I feel weak, from shock and loss of blood.” He leaned heavily against the banister to play up his act. Lance sighed, frustrated.

“Fine. I’ll call you a taxi home, okay then?” Lance headed to the phone, about to dial the number of a taxi cab service when the man popped up beside him.

“That’s a fine idea, from a fine man, but if the police found my car outside your house, it would mean questions and..I am a wanted man you know.” The man breathed next to Lance’s ear making him shiver. 

“I’m really only thinking of you.” He smiled gently down at Lance who blinked up at him questioningly. With a resounding sigh, Lance put the phone down and turned to the taller man. 

“Thank you, thank you sooo much for being sooo considerate. I’ll drive you home then, is that alright with you?” The man smiled genuinely before leaning in a little more, Lance’s breath being caught as he gazed up at the man.

“Yes thats fine. Thank you.” Lance turned away from the man, before he would regret anything he was about to do, heading to the bench and table in the alcove underneath the stairs, pulling on a long dark blue coat and black rain boots. With Lance ready to leave, he escorted the man out to his car, trying not to feel super exposed in his lack of clothing and with the mans eyes darting towards him every few minutes. He headed in the same direction as the man towards two cars. One was an older model, all black, four door car that looked like something someone would drive for a stakeout. Lance assumed this was the mans car and headed towards it but heard the man clearing his throat instead, making Lance pause. The man stood next to a two door, shiny black new model, that screamed dangerous and exciting. Lance raised an eyebrow, wondering how the hell a thief could own such a luxurious car. The man smiled at Lance’s obvious gaping and merely opened the drivers door invitingly.

“Pretty, isn’t she? Does more than 200 miles an hour. Pretty useful for getaways of course.” The man joked. Lance gave him an exasperated look, not wanting to admit that was kinda funny.

“The burgling business must be pretty good.” Lance suggested sarcastically. As he admired the interior, the man leaned towards him.

“It’s stolen.” He whispered while Lance’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he turned to gaze at the man, ignoring the way he was shaking with laughter.

“I can’t drive a stolen car!” He shouted, shoving the mans hands away when he tried to shush Lance repeatedly.

“Why not? Same thing as driving your own car, unless you drive only stick, cuz this is automatic, but I’m sure you’ll be able to pick it up-”

“This is a bunch of looney tooney! You should be in jail and I should be in bed!” Lance cried, getting up to leave when the man pulled him back giving him a sympathy look and grabbing his arm.

“Ow my arm! Please!” he pouted a little which would normally look ridiculous on any adult man but he made it look cute, although it was infuriating at the moment.

“Fine. Where to?” Lance grumbled, sitting back in the drivers seat, cranking the car on.

“The Ritz.”

“The what?” The man turned to Lance confused.

“The Ritz. The hotel, located near the-”

“I know where it is! Geez, you’re some fancy burglar aren’t you?” The man chuckled in response and Lance took off down the streets. The man clutched his seat nervous as they flew past other drivers, almost seeming as if they’re about to crash into another car or worse, a pedestrian.

“If that gunshot didn’t kill me, your driving certainly will.” The man muttered, ignoring Lance’s “Hey!” As they passed over a pothole, they bounced really high, the man letting out another yelp gripping the seat with his bad arm. Lance noticed and gave the man an accusatory look.

“Your arm looks better.” He spat, giving the man a hard glare as the man went back to patting his arm, obviously faking.

 “Oh no it really hurts. Ouch oooooh.” He moaned clutching his arm. Lance gave him a cross look. 

“It's the other arm.”

“Umm the infection is spreading.” Lance groaned while the man grinned as they continued racing down the road. Finally they made it to the hotel, Lance parking the car and getting out.

“Well we got here alive. Thank you, and let me know if I can ever return the favor.” The man grinned facing towards Lance who recoiled, annoyed.

“Somehow I doubt that will happen…Wait, how am I going to get home?” Lance asked realizing he had no way of getting home. He turned to face the man, a slight flush coming across his cheeks as the mans eyes gazed back at him fondly.

“You see, you never know when you might need a friend?” He smiled while Lance just turned away scoffing, getting out of the car. The man smiled before getting out of the car and signaled to the doorman.

“Good evening Mr. Shirogane.”

“Good evening, uh a taxi please?”

“Right away sir.” The man, Mr. Shirogane as Lance now learned his name was, strolled over to Lance, standing beside him while they waited for a taxi. Lance was pulling his coat closely over himself, trying not to feel as exposed.

“Oh shoot, now you know my name, oh well can’t be helped. Besides, I have this funny feeling, which is rare for my profession, that you’re completely trustworthy.” Mr. Shirogane smiled down at Lance who almost flushed from his gaze but ran off seeing the taxi pull up.

“Hey!” Lance paused outside the taxi, Mr. Shirogane came running up to him, leaning so close to him, Lance could practically smell the cologne on him.

“I forgot to wear gloves on the job like a complete idiot so would you do me one last favor, take a clean cloth and run it over the edges of the paintings frame so my fingerprints won’t be all over it, okay?” Lance stiffened, feeling bewildered.

“Suureee and while we’re at it, I don’t suppose you want me to forge you a passport or loan you some counterfeit money while I’m at it?  Honestly, I can’t believe you, next you’ll be wanting a kiss goodnight.”  Lance asked, raising an eyebrow and tapping his foot irritated.

“Well I don’t usually, not when I first meet people, but you’ve been such a good sport about all this so why the hell not?” He smiled.

The next thing Lance knew, Mr. Shirogane’s arms were around him, pulling him in and giving him a slow and gentle kiss. Lance struggled for a second til he felt the mans lips on his and melted. The fiery spark from earlier being dimmed out as the stranger he had only met an hour ago was kissing him with time freezing at that exact moment. Suddenly he didn’t hear the late night traffic or sounds of music drifting in from the Ritz. Lance moaned, feeling his toes curl inside his boots before he was pulled back, staring dazedly up at the man as he was lowered into the taxi cab seat, his legs feeling like jelly and he couldn’t move. Mr. Shirogane chuckled amused as he leaned down to pick up Lance’s bare legs and move them inside the cab, leaning in to give the driver the address and promptly giving Lance one last peck on the forehead, saying something about getting a good nights sleep before he shut the door. With a final wave the cab sped off, Lance leaning as far back as he could to watch the fading figure of Mr. Shirogane become smaller and smaller.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so people know, shiro is like 29, 30 while Lance is 24-25. Those are the ages for my story at least.


	4. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the kiss.

Takashi Shirogane watched as the cab pulled away. His amused grin slipping away when he trailed back indoors, nodding his thanks to the doorman as he stepped inside the elaborate building, making his way to the elevators where his temporary apartment was located on one of the highest floors. He entered his rather spacious room, flicking on a few lights as he headed towards his desk set up with his equipment. Shiro pulled out the plastic baggie from earlier that contained the same pair of tweezers he used to chip off a piece of paint from the Van Gogh masterpiece. Shiro slipped on a pair of his magnifying glasses that zoomed in on the paint chip. He settled in as he began to study the paint chip throughout the rest of the night. 

                                                                                       **********

Lance walked back inside his home still in a daze. 

He didn’t notice his father in the lounge till he walked by, his father looking up from pouring a bottle of wine.

“Ah Lance, mi hijo! What a pity you missed the opening! Our Cellini Venus was a tremendous success! You should’ve seen the crowds!”

“Papa, I need to tell you something,”

“Photographers! From all nationalities!”

“Papa, you need to listen,”

“With our Cellini Venus, the center of the whole attraction!” Lance finally cupped his fathers jaw and made him look at him.

“Papa, I caught a burglar.” He gasped out. His gaze turned to confusion when his father chuckled and patted his hand, walking away from his son, obviously not hearing him correctly.

“Of course you did.” He replied proud. Lance put a hand to his forehead, waiting for it to sink in as this was typical of his father when he was in a very excitable state.

“But you must promise me that you will go there and see it for yourself…” His father paused, his back straightening as he turned to face his son, his face no longer showing excitement but only confusion and mild fear.

“A burglar? What? Here in this house?” He asked as if he wasn’t sure this was real. Lance merely nodded, watching his father grow more and more worried as it processed.

“Good lord.” he muttered, placing the bottle of wine down to step toward his son, who was now pulling off his jacket, leaning on one of the plush couches.

“Here take a sip of this.” He thrusted the glass from earlier towards Lance, Lance taking a hesitant sip, “I want you to tell me all about it, now.” He replied sternly. Lance blinked like he was trying to picture it all over again.

“Well it was really dark, I heard a noise down here so I came to check it out and there he was.” Fernando hummed along, fixing himself a drink to calm his own nerves down.

“Tall, grey eyes, broad shoulders. Kinda good looking.” Lance reminisced, picturing those same grey eyes with a gentle smile that had kissed him earlier. He didn’t notice that his father was giving him a questioning look until he forced himself to stop daydreaming and cleared his throat embarrassed. 

“But in a brutal, mean way Papa! He was a terrible man! Arrogant, snarky! No sense of guilt, or shame..or…or anything.” Lance once again thought about the man crushing him against his body and Lance remembered how sturdy and hard the mans chest was. Underneath that formal attire, Lance could tell he was packing some serious muscles, that could press him tight against his body, or manhandle him easily which made Lance’s mouth go dry at the thought. Those steel grey eyes that reminded Lance of a stormy day but brought a sense of calm and peace to his inner being just by looking into them. And that smile with those lips, how even when he was being a total cad, he did it in such a gentle, flirty way it left Lance flustered and squeamish. Especially since Mr. Shirogane knew how to use them, Lance blushed, tracing his lips with his fingers, thinking about the tingling feeling that lasted all throughout the cab ride. Lance didn’t pay attention to his father who was staring incredulous at his son, walking around in a dream-like state.

“So you-you discussed all that did you?” He coughed feeling awkward before taking a sip of his drink.

“Well that was later when I was driving him home.” Fernando choked, coughing out the drink as he sputtered wine on the carpet, and some into his glass. He turned to his son eyes wide and questioning which Lance turned to him to explain, grabbing the handkerchief from his fathers breast pocket to dab at the wine around his fathers lips.

“Well I had to Papa, I shot him in the arm with abuela’s old pistol.” Lance stated, finished, he placed the handkerchief back in his fathers breast pocket.

“It was an accident, I think.” He added, cheeks flushing. His father set down his drink, patting his son in comfort.

“Oh mijo. Now just supposing you start all over again, and tell me exactly what happened in detail.” His father placed a secure arm around his sons shoulders, dragging him and the booze cart over to one of the couches. Lance plopped down on one of the couches, his father taking  a seat on the ottoman across from him, waiting for Lance to tell him the story.

“I caught him in the act of stealing-”

“Uh huh.”

“I kept him back with a pistol, and I was calling the police when  I saw what he was stealing: The Van Gogh. _Your Van Gogh_.” Lance pointed with a dramatic flourish towards said painting like it was the criminal itself.

“What?!” His father jumped from his seat towards the painting, inspecting every detail for damage while Lance continued on.

“And I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid if he were arrested, it might mean publicity.”

“Publicity? Of course! A police investigation-that might make it very awkward.”

“That’s what I thought, so I let him go.”

“Good!”

“I did the right thing right Papa?”

“Of course! Maybe he was a first offender after all. I’m just glad you weren’t hurt in all this.” Fernando patted his sons cheeks, despite Lance’s eye rolls.

“You should’ve seen the way he was acting when I was helping his injury.” Lance babbled now, going back to his earlier moment with the thief in his kitchen.

“Mmm. Mmm?” His father hummed looking at him in question again.

“What? He might have gotten an infection! Whatever, the whole thing was awful.” Lance complained, sipping his drink more as his father studied him.

“Well I’m going to bed. Good night Papa.” Lance stood, placing his drink in his fathers hands and kissing him good night on the cheek. His father kissed him back, also wishing him good night as he turned away to think about all this. He felt a slight tugging at his breast pocket and watched confused as his son took the handkerchief out again but this time, he was staring intently at the Van Gogh. He was even more confused as Lance ran the handkerchief around the edges of the frame, wiping away any invisible dust that lingered. Lance took a step back admiring his work and gently placed the cloth back in his fathers breast pocket, leaning forward again to kiss his father good night, as if he already forgotten he did so.

“Good night Papa.” Lance breathed, walking away, not hearing his fathers chuckles.

“Good night mi hijo. Have a good sleep…” He trailed off, studying how Lance seemed to float as he walked. His amusement turned to concern as a certain nagging thought at the back of his head finally caught up to him.

“Uh Lance?” He called, he watched as Lance paused on the steps giving him a curious gaze.

“This tall, good-looking brute with the grey eyes, he didn’t _force_ himself on you did he?” He asked, a slight edge to his voice. When Lance only remained quiet, his worry grew.

“Did he?!” he called out, getting his son to face him calmly. Oh he'd have to sick Marcel on this foolish bastard who dared touch his so-.

“Not much.” Lance replied smiling a little as he climbed the rest of the stairs, heading to bed with his concerned father watching him go.

                                                                                        **********

Shiro paused from looking into his microscope, a cigarette halfway burned and his shirtsleeves rolled back. It was around three in the morning now but he still had alot of research left to do. The cool night breeze fluttered in through the opened french doors, cooling off the repressing heat from the Ritz's heating system. Shiro stared at the midnight blue sky, and smiled, the colors and twinkling stars reminding him of a certain blue eyed Cuban.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I still have alot to upload! Lance hasn't seen the last of this mysterious burglar.


	5. You Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance runs into our favorite burglar again but is he who he says he is?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Shance Week guys! I plan on updating this frequently throughout this week.

The museum was crowded and full of people. The exhibition was finally open to the public, and everyone from miles away came to see it. The usual quiet being replaced with loud murmuring, creating a buzz across the building. Most were congregated around the Cellini, pointing and expressing their interests at such beauty. Lance stood off to the side, admiring it from afar but not really in the mood to be among the crowd. While he wasn’t completely famous to everyone, he was a known local and would undoubtedly have many coming over to try to talk to him and congratulate him on his fathers success. He was also nervous about the idea of someone, anyone, pointing out how this one was a fake and then everyone turning to him with accusatory eyes. It was a frequent nightmare he had to deal with and was part of the reason he stayed out of the limelight. He noticed the ring of lights settled in a circle, creating a halo image reflected at the top of the Venus and on the ground. Lance figured this was some sort of alarm system and decided after seeing it and having his fill, he turned around ready to leave when he crashed into a wall..or rather a person. 

“I’m sorry I-Oh!” His apology died on his lips when he looked up to see a gentle smirk and steel grey eyes look him up and down.

“It’s you…” He breathed accusatory while Mr. Shirogane merely smiled more in return.

“Good morning! We meet again under artistic circumstances.” He pointed at a nearby tapestry, the goofy smile turning downwards at Lance’s unamused look. Shiro merely walked around him, feeling Lance’s eyes follow his form as he stood admiring the Cellini.

“Beautiful.” He murmured, appreciatively. Lance turned, curious til his eyes landed on the Cellini. His eyes flew open wider as he turned towards the taller man with a pout.

“You’re not serious?” He demanded. Shiro merely chuckled as he leaned forward till his lips were against Lance’s ear.

“Relax…I’m off duty.”  He whispered conspiratorially. Lance flushed and turned away, not wanting to egg the man on when a sudden “Mr. Ramirez-McClain!” and turned to see Sendak approaching.

“A pleasure to have you here with us Mr. Ramirez-McClain.” Sendak stated, holding out his hand in greeting. He gave Shiro the glance over, eyeing his smartly dressed attire.

“Oh Monsiuer Sendak,” Lance greeted politely before remembering his manners and glanced at Shiro unsure.

“Uh Monsiuer Sendak, uh the director of the museum and, uh-“ Lance trailed off not really knowing Shiro’s whole name. Shiro seemed to pick up on this and smiled politely, holding his hand out.

“Takashi Shirogane. Everyone just calls me ‘Shiro’.” Sendak nodded knowingly and shook hands although he was rather stiff.

“How do you do sir.”

“Delighted. Mr. Ramirez-McClain and I are old friends. We used to ‘shoot’ together..” Shiro flashed Lance a teasing smile, enjoying Lance’s angry blush.

“Wonderful exhibition. So many interesting pieces you’ve assembled here.” Shiro finished looking around.

“Oh yes indeed. Actually I wanted Mr. Ramirez-McClain here to observe our security precautions to protect his family’s great sculpture. Uh, are you interested in art Shiro?”

“Oh indeed I am. As well as security.”

“Well..how about I show you.” Sendak motioned for them both to follow as he took off across the room towards the Cellini. Lance hung back, giving Shiro a gaping look as he stepped forward. Shiro paused noticing Lance’s hesitation and flashed a smile at him, one a look of innocence. Lance sighed, rolling his eyes as he came up beside Shiro, mostly telling himself he was there to keep an eye on Shiro. In case he tried anything funny.

They followed Sendak to where the sculpture stood on a pedastel raised on a circular stage from the floor. Sendak explained the uses of the security features, pointing at each one.

“These tiny blue beams on the floor and ceiling are infrared circuits.” Lance debated whether a thief should really listen to the mechanisms of a secuity and decided he should step in before Sendak fed more ideas into Shiro's head.

“Monsieur I really have to go. So does he.” Lance replied taking Shiro's arm and trying to drag him away.

“Well I find it fascinating. Please do go on.” Shiro pleaded knowing what Lance was up to. Lance pouted up at Shiro as Sendak explained the security features more.

“Well those beams form a circle around the Venus and if the circle is interrupted in any way, the alarm will go off.” Sendak stated proudly.

“Bravo! Wonderful, we really have to go-” Lance pulled on Shiro’s arm, harder this time to get them to leave but Sendak kept talking.

“It’s the electric eye detection and alarm system. We call it the E.E.D.A.S.” Shiro whistled amused.

“Very clever.” He nodded. Lance just seethed in the background.

“Nice. Monsieur Sendak-”

“I know the question you’re going to ask: What if a burglar got to it and turned off the alarm?”

“No…not really. The thought never entered my mind.” Lance stated eyes drifting towards Shiro every few seconds.

“Funny I was going to ask the same thing.” Shiro stated in mock amazement. Sendak didn’t pick up on his sarcasm though as he kept explaining, blissfully unaware of the vicious tongues sticking out at each other war Shiro and Lance were engaged in.

“Good question. The answer is he cannot. You see it operates like a vault. And only two trusted guards and myself know the combination to access the vault to turn it off. Perhaps I should show you-”  Lance’s eyes widened and he franticly pulled Shiro towards him, edging towards the door.

“No thanks, we, I mean I! I have an appointment. He does too.” Lance pointed at Shiro and then tugged them away before Shiro could resist, a confused Sendak left standing by the Venus

                                                                                          ********

Shiro stumbled outside the museum, being pulled towards a car by the street. Normally this sort of touching would infuriate him, but seeing as it was a cute tan skinned, blue eyed man with the cutest pout he decided to let it slide for once.

“Where are we off to?” Shiro purred making Lance stop by a bright blue vehicle that remarkably matched with his eyes, Shiro noted.

“We are going nowhere. I am leaving. Alone. Now go away or I’ll call the policeman.” Lance shooed Shiro away as he climbed into his car.

“Now what happened to the charming, shoot-first-ask-questions-later man I met yesterday?” Shiro teased, leaning down til he was on the same height as Lance. Lance ignored his remarks and closed his door, beginning to turn his car on.

“Hey listen, I have something very important to say to you actually.” Shiro leaned in, murmuring the words. Lance just shoved him away before driving off, giving Shiro whiplash. Shiro watched him glide down the street and sighed, a slight frown on his face.

                                                                                            ********

After hailing a cab ride to his temporary office, Shiro walked into his boss’s workplace, an interesting New Zealander named Coran. Coran was doubled over his desk, working on some paperwork a monocle in one eye, making Shiro smile. A brief clearing of the throat made Coran glance up and do a double take.

“Well finally! I waited at the Ritz for you last night. I thought you had been caught by the po-po for few hours there.” Coran chuckled, Shiro shaking his head.

“Fortunately no.” Shiro shook his head, sinking into one of the cushy chairs Coran kept in his office.

“Well then what happened?” He asked curious.

“Well I’m a part-time burglar now Coran, and its hard work.” Coran merely scoffed.

“You wanna talk about hard work now eh? This one time at home, my mate and I was camping out in the wilderness and we had to tussle with some roos'. Lemme tell ya, them babies pack a wallop! But anyways, did you see the Van Gogh by chance?” he asked, eyes shining bright. Shiro paused not just because Coran’s stories always threw him for a loop, but also trying to make sense of the whole bizarre situation he was caught up in.

“Yes. I did.” Shiro breathed, looking away. Coran leaned closer, curious.

“Well?” He prompted. Shiro just gave him a silent look before looking away. Coran snapped his fingers.

“You notice it too, don’t you?” Coran prodded. Shiro sighed, rubbing his face in his hands. 

“I’m not admitting anything Coran, but it did look like the one Van Gogh painted. It’s a great Van Gogh.”

“Well of course it is, but _who_ painted it?”

“Coran, Ramirez-McClain has a Cellini sculpture at the exhibition right now, worth a million dollars. He doesn’t need to forge paintings…Unless you think the Cellini is a fake too.” Shiro supplied. Coran just shook his head.

“No, no. I doubt that. For one thing it was exhibited not too long ago when Fernando Ramirez-McClain was eight years old. Besides, he never studied sculpture but he did study painting.” Shiro seemed to be deep in thought, as he paced around the office, slowly.

“Well if he has a million dollars lying around loose, why would he need to forge paintings? What’s his motive?” Shiro asked turning to Coran who shrugged.

“Ego. Vanity. Pulling the whole worlds leg and having fun doing it I suppose. Shiro, imagine Ramirez-McClain as a young painter, like many others he copies the masters, to learn their secrets, its just a small hobby at first but over the years, it becomes an obsession. He learns every inch of light, color, form, he identifies with them completely. When he paints a Van Gogh, he _is_ Van Gogh. He’s Cezanne, hes Lautrec, hes any painter he chooses to be. And thats his motive and also his profit!” Coran stated proudly, like he solved the case. Shiro continued to stare off, in deep thought.

“What about his son?” Shiro asked, curious.

“Lance? What about him?” Coran asked confused.

“You think he’s in on the whole thing with his father?”

“Possibly. According to you though, there is no evidence they’re faking anything.” Coran offered. Shiro nodded his head remembering.

“Oh yes, thats right.”

“Well you’re wrong! And you’ll see!” Shiro jumped back, startled at Coran’s, hungry gaze. Shiro watched after him as Coran glided about the room, raving about how he was gonna catch those ‘big fakers’ as he described it. Shiro turned back to the window overlooking a small section of the city thinking not only about forged paintings by one of the greatest masters, but also a gorgeous pair of blue eyes


	6. The Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance goes on a date, and promises another one to someone else soon.

There was a knock on Lance’s bedroom door, disrupting his activity of getting ready for the evening. 

“Come in!” Lance called, walking out of his personal bathroom, as the door opened and his father stepped in. 

“Hello Papa!” Lance greeted, noticing his father dressed down for the night in his robe and slippers.

“Good evening mi hijo, My dear Marcel, tells me you’re dining out tonight.” He mentioned, chuckling  at the sight of various scattered outfits, hiding the bed and chairs. 

“Mm-hm! With some American billionaire apparently! I just met him today.” Lance explained. He greeted his father with a kiss on the cheek as he made his way over to his vanity table.

“He also likes skincare products.” Lance mentioned, working on his face by applying some cream all over to his t-zone. His father chuckling behind him as he stepped to face his son.

“Well that might be the start of a great friendship.” He smiled but stopped as he heard a car approaching and a car door slam.

“That must be him.” Lance stated, wiping off the cream and applying another face cream to his whole face this time. His father peered outside, inspecting the car.

“It’s a Porsche. Well if that doesn’t say American.” Fernando chuckled. He watched as a tall, lithe fellow with bright blonde hair exited the car, heading towards their front door.

“What’s the fellows name?” He inquired. Lance finished wiping off the last of the face cream and faced his father.

“Lotor or something like that I believe. He ran into me at work actually.” Lance explained. His father merely froze at the mention of his name and tilted his head towards his son.

“Really? Are you sure?” He asked. Lance squinted at his father confused.

“Do you know him?” He asked.

“No but I’d like to meet him. He’s one of the most openhanded art collectors in America...I think I’ll go keep him company.” Fernando mused, not noticing the way Lance froze at the mention of art collector.

“He didn’t say anything about a collection...” Lance murmured.

“Did he not tell you he got the great Toulouse-Lautrec from the Ramirez-McClain collection?” His father asked surprised. Lance turned to face his father, his face serious.

“Your Lautrec or Lautrec’s Lautrec?” Lance asked, despite already knowing the answer.

“Mine of course…Are you implying mine’s inferior in any way?” Fernando peered suspiciously at his son who just flopped his head in his hands and groaned.

“Listen Papa, when I mentioned your name, he said it only sounded vaguely familiar. Not only did he not say anything about having a collection, he said he didn’t like art at all. He suspects something…He must’ve arranged to meet me.” Lance realized, slinking into his seat. His father leaned over the chair, hugging Lance.

“Well, I find that rather alarming. I’ll go and meet him, maybe scare him off a bit.” He chuckled, hoping to ease the tension a little. Lance gave him a grateful smile as he pondered what to do. With a resounding sigh, Lance got up and started getting dressed, slipping out of his robe, planning on how to confront Lotor at dinner.

                                                                                                 *********

The restaurant was filled with lively chatter, almost overpowering the tune of the classical piano, played by one of the musicians. The whole place was decorated rather elegantly and screamed high society with a small dance floor for people to dance to the lively music if they wished. Despite Lance’s status as an aristocrat, he still hadn’t been to a place as fancy as this. They were seated at a small table, tucked away behind a small curtain, to give them some privacy. They had just finished a relaxing meal, waiting on their dessert and Lance was asking question after another hoping the taller, handsome man would spill something about why he asked Lance out.

“This is some pretty good wine. How did you know how to choose it?” Lance asked curious. Lotor simply smirked as he swirled his own before taking a sip.

“Easy, I own the vineyards.” Lance paused, almost choking on his drink.

“Oh that makes things simple I guess.” Lance chuckled even though he felt uncomfortable being there all of a sudden.

“I tend to like costly, beautiful things. So nothing I own is simple really.” Lotor explained, giving Lance another flirtatious look and smiling in pleasure.

“Oh really?” Lance simply smiled, which felt more like a grimace and continued to drink his wine, hoping it would take some of the edge off.

“Yes, I own many luxury cars, homes, jewels, countries, and I have my own skincare product line!” Lotor beamed ignoring Lance’s “Wait what did you say?”

“I have a moisturizer worth almost a thousand dollars Lance. It’s very hydrating, keeps your skin healthy and glowing all day. I’ve had much research done on it and it’s sold in every Sephora exclusively in the North American region.” Lotor boasted. Lance took another sip, studying Lotor and leaned forward, expressing interest. He did take skincare seriously after all.

“Fascinating.” He smiled, his teeth white and dazzling, making Lotor sputter for once as he fought a blush down.

“You know Lance, I think you’re a marvelous treasure, if I’m allowed to be so bold,” Lotor spoke, taking one of Lance’s hands in his, admiring its softness as well as its owners face.

“Oh uh, thats really nice of you Lotor but I feel that theres something..off. I feel like theres something you’re not telling me. Or you’re trying to avoid a certain subject…” Lance trailed off hoping Lotor would pick up the bait. Lotor merely scowled, moving away from Lance as he muttered a few choice curse words under his breath, making Lance pause, understanding.

“There..is something isn’t there?” Lance accused as Lotor snapped his head up and gave Lance a frustrated look.

“Yes. There is. I-I hate to say this but it involves your father…and the Ramirez-McClain collection.” Lotor paused letting his words sink in as Lance fidgeted wanting him to just get to the point.

“This is hard for me to say but I-” a waiter approached the table then, mentioning something about an important phone call making Lotor scowl, obviously not happy being interrupted.

“How the devil did they track me down here? Excuse me dear Lance, I’ll cut this quite short.” Lotor kissed the back of Lance’s hand before sliding out from the booth they were seated in and heading away. Lance leaned his head on his hand, anxiety eating him away as he took out one of his fidget cubes from his bag and began messing around with it. He began thinking about where Lotor was heading into this conversation when he looked around and finally noticed the dark silhouette standing next to his table.

“Oh no.” Lance groaned, sinking further into his seat as Shiro smiled down at him from where he was leaning against the wall.

“Fancy meeting you here. Although your greeting needs work, you would think a widowed art collector would send his only son to finishing school.” Lance scoffed, waving him away to dismiss him.

“Well, no manners indeed. Even after all the trouble I went through to arrange these few private moments for us.” Shiro bemoaned as he slid in the booth next to Lance. Lance blushed and merely pressed against him, not wanting to back down from this challenge and decided to make Shiro as uncomfortable as possible if he could.

“Would you leave the table? Talk about manners, you’re the one being rude here.” Lance pointed out. Shiro at least looked guilty and sheepishly smiled.

“Would you believe me if I told you it was National Crime Prevention Week, tonights take a burglar to dinner night.” He teased, while Lance snorted.

“Listen Shiro, my date has a nasty temper and I don’t want to be on the receiving end of it as well as you! Now go call off that fake phone call, I’m sure you planned somehow, and go!”

“You seem stressed. That explains the fidget toy. Alright I’ll leave, but first I must tell you something.”

“Well tell it and go! if you don’t I’ll start screaming once I see Lotor.” Lance threatened. Shiro nodded gravely as he leaned forward.

“I just want to know when and where I can meet you.”

“Ugh! Seriously? Fine, you choose and make it fast!” Lance whispered, a sudden clatter had them both glancing up to see Lotor on his way over, but was currently deterred by the stack of dirty dishes a busboy had been carrying off when he ran into the moody billionaire.

“Uhh, remember Takashi Shirogane. Room 136. The Ritz. Please contact me, its urgent!” Shiro stated his eyes boring into Lance’s who gulped in response as he stared at the grey eyes he of course, hadn’t been dreaming about, no way. Lance merely nodded, lost in his daze again as Shiro smiled lightly and scooted out of the booth before Lotor turned to see them.

As Lotor headed over to Lance, Lance watched as Shiro went around the other way. Shiro paused as he stood above one table with two ladies dining and kept mouthing the word ‘The Ritz’ over and over. Shiro glanced down noticing the matching glares of the couple staring up at him and smiled in acknowledgment before taking off. Lance watched as he strode away, for a nosey burglar he sure had a fine shapely ass-

“So where were we?” Lotor’s cheerfully asked, but Lance could detect a trace of anger hidden away so he decided not to push the phone call.

“Well, we were talking about my father and his collection.” Lance offered. He gripped his pants with his hands, waiting for Lotor to spill all that he knows about the collection being fake and how he was going to arrest his father and throw him in prison, okay Lance enough. Get it together already.

“Oh yes…I hate to have to tell you this dear Lance, but I arranged our meeting.” Lotor announced. Lance gaped at him and when Lotor raised an eyebrow confused Lance shook his head and let out a fake gasp.

“No? Why would you do that?” Lance asked innocently. It seemed to fool Lotor who continued to grow more nervous which Lance found rather odd.

“It’s this ridiculous obsession. It haunts me Lance. From the minute I first laid eyes on it, I knew I had to have it in my grasp.” Lance breathed evenly, before leaning forward and asking quietly, not sure he could handle the answer.

“Laid eyes on what exactly?” This was it, the moment Lotor would reveal his fathers fake masterpieces and expose his family.

“Why the Cellini Venus of course! I saw it at the first opening and I can’t stop thinking about it. And this morning when I learned your father wouldn’t sell for any price, I had to pull some strings to meet you, hoping I could use you to get to the Cellini. Well, thats it for that I suppose.” Lotor grumbled. Lance merely chuckled, feeling a wave of relief crashing over him as Lotor’s words processed.

“Oh Lotor, you poor man, I’m sorry you fell in love with the Venus, He’s not for sale. And believe me if he were mine to give, he’d be at your doorstep in the morning. But thank the gods!” And with that, Lance kissed a speechless Lotor.

“Now that that’s over, shall we dance?” Lance asked, turning to a red faced Lotor who stared at Lance as if he were the stars and the moon.

“Y-yes indeed.” He purred, taking Lance’s hand and pulling him out to the dance floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, Lotor isn't really an antagonist in this story, hes mostly just an obsessive art lover, who happens to be in love with the Venus..(i wonder why cough cough)


	7. Bad News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fernando lands himself in hot water. Lance comes up with a plan to save them.

Fernando sat in the lounge, drinking some coffee as he read the newspaper. He spotted his son coming down the stairs freshly clean and dressed. 

“Ah, good morning mi hijo.” He greeted. Lance smiled as he headed towards his father, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Good morning Papa. If you’ll excuse me, I’m late for work but I wanted to tell you about Lotor first.” Lance grabbed his father’s coffee, sighing as he took a long appreciative sip despite his father’s unamused glare. Playfully, he gave the cup back to his father and began his recount of his night.

“Everything’s fine apparently! As far as Lotor’s concerned, you can go on faking masterpieces as long as you can still hold a brush. He contacted me just for some plot to use me to get to you so he can get the Cellini Venus.” Lance exclaimed with pride. His father gave him a dubious look and leaned back in his chair.

“Really? American billionaires really are looney-tooney then. Maybe it’s something in the ink they print in their money?” His father rambled, earning a chuckle from Lance. Their butler Marcel, strode into the room then, looking as sharp as ever. 

“A gentlemen to see you sir.” He announced. “Sent on behalf of the director of the Kleber-Lafayette Museum, sir.” Lance looked to his father confused which his father seemed to be sporting the same expression as him. 

“Already? It’s a bit early for guests, but show him in Marcel, if you don’t mind.” Fernando waved his hand, getting up from his chair with a grunt, as he straightened his robe. Marcel turned to leave and Lance just looked to his father, his eyes silently asking questions until his father chuckled.

“I’m sure its another enterprising young fellow Sendak sent to me.” He reassured and left the lounge room to greet his guest. As he turned the corner he was surprised to see it wasn’t a young fellow at all, but an old man, standing over hunched, his hair withered away and his frail body shaking. Nevertheless, Fernando put his surprise aside and approached the man with a gentle handshake and half bow.

“Good morning sir, I’m sorry to disturb you early this morning, its just theres a technicality on the insurance of your loan..of one statue, twenty-nine inches of marble, entitled _Venus_ by Ben-ve-vento Sell-een-knee?” The man stopped to look at Fernando who had gone as white as a sheet nearly.

“Insurance? On that?” He asked breathless. He scoffed, shaking his head.

“It’s never been insured. It’s beyond price range.” He explained. The gentlemen shook his head gently as he explained further.

“We were aware of how pricey it is so we took special consideration for its transportation and exhibition but by an unfortunate error of some sort, your signature was not obtained for the document portion. There is of course no expense to yourself, sir. Only a formality, once you sign this document, the work of art is covered until its returned to this house in good order.” Lance had walked over then, shrugging on his coat as he got ready but paused long enough to linger so he could hear the conversation. His father looked deep in thought.

“And I just have to sign?” He asked. The man nodded.

“Yes sir.”

“And then uh-“

“Yes sir, its insured for a million dollars against all risks including, flood, earthquake, lightning, falling aircraft, loot, sack, pillage, fires, structural collapse and buildings, and of course, larceny or theft.” Fernando chuckled, feeling giddy as he took the offered pen and signed his name, neatly. He handed the pen back to the gentlemen who thanked him. As Fernando and Lance moved away the gentlemen cleared his throat as he begun to speak again.

“Also sir, would you like to be present at the technical examination?” Fernando and Lance stopped, hearing an imaginary drum drop as they both sputtered out, “T-te-technical examination?” they replied in unison.

“Yes you see, they always require it, and you of course, have just authorized it.” He said patting the paper Fernando signed.

“It’s only part of the formality, I believe they have a professor Bauer flying in from Zurich in the next two days. Well thank you sir, have a good day.” The gentlemen bowed and walked off, leaving a flabbergasted father and son duo in the lounge as he was escorted out by Marcel. Lance and his father silently followed him to the foyer where they both simultaneously sank into chairs opposite each other, defeated. With a heavy weight on their chests, they realized exactly the nature of what they had just done.

“Papa this professor, does he know all the tests?” He asked timidly. His father sighed nodding.

“He invented them.” He stated bitterly. Lance hummed, feeling himself slink further into his chair.

“It’s not like we’re trying to sell the Venus.” He pointed out.

“Mi hijo, the first breath of suspicion, the entire myth of the Ramirez-McClain collection explodes. Boom! Everything I’ve done will be examined and reexamined..with x-rays, microscopes, fluoroscopes, shadow graphs, all sorts of smelly chemicals it’ll be like one of those forensic crime shows you watch.” His father slammed his hand on the arm of his chair, pushing himself up as he started pacing again. Lance watched helplessly as his father started ranting.

“We live in such a crass commercial world! No faith or trust in anyone!” Lance wanted to point out the irony in that statement but held his tongue, thinking now was not the best time to lecture his father, no matter how much rubbing it in, saying ‘i told you so’ sounded appealing.

His father collapsed in a chair in the lounge, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. As he was taking a sip, Lance strode over to his father, moving his glass out of his hand and setting it down before clutching his fathers shoulders.   

“We need to keep Professor Bauer from examining the Venus.” He stated. Fernando snorted.

“And how do you propose we do that? I basically gave them permission! I not only asked for my execution, I’ve handed them them the tools to do so!” Fernando rubbed his head until he glanced back up at his son, who was fidgeting again. An idea came to him.

“But I can at least keep you out of this.” He started, jumping up to grab Lance by his shoulders firmly as he locked gazes with his son.

“I want you to leave Paris immediately. I want you to go to America-” Lance shook his head,

“No.”

“Or go to Japan, I have a few contacts there, please mi hijo, it’ll be easier for me to know you’re somewhere safe where they can’t touch you. I’ll be fine I promise.” Lance shook his head fiercely.

“I’m not leaving you and thats final.” He argued, stroking his fathers arm for comfort.

Marcel strode into the room again, interrupting their moment. “Sir?”

“Yes, what is it Marcel?”

“A Mr. Haxus to see you sir.” Fernando stopped, glaring at Marcel.

“Who?” He demanded.

“A gentlemen from South America sir. He’s very..excitable.” Marcel cautioned. Fernando shook his head, reclaiming his whiskey from earlier. Lance leaned in confused.

“Papa, who's Mr. Haxus?”

“I don’t know-Oh my god!” He cried rolling his eyes, walking away irritated. The man, Lance presumed to be Haxus, strode in very excited indeed as he looked around noticing Fernando immediately.

“Ahh Monsieur's, I apologize for coming…Oh! Here it is!” Haxus smiled brilliantly, gesturing to the Van Gogh painting sitting on the wall.

“I was just in the neighborhood and I couldn’t bear to leave Paris without consulting you about this.” With a dramatic flourish, he fell at Fernando’s feet which made the Cuban man very angry as he picked up Haxus by the collar of his shirt and jacket, escorting him to leave.

“I’m terribly sorry, but it is not for sale! Now goodbye! _Adios!”_ Fernando screamed, scaring the man out of the house. With a cry, he turned towards Lance who was still in shock from the whole outburst, having never seen his father so upset before.

“Papa..” Lance murmured softly, wrapping his father in his arms. His father began weeping silent tears as he let his son hold him.

“Just some preposterous man I met at the auction. Told him I have a Van Gogh worth a stunning price. Humph! And why not? My work is worth a stunning price, even more! It’s not gonna just be a scandal, it’s gonna be a triumph!” Fernando grabbed his glass once again sinking into a chair with remorse as he began ranting again.

“Let the experts come pouring in with their x-rays, their microscopes, even their nuclear weapons if they like!” He gave a wheezing laugh as he poured more whiskey, taking a long sip as he chugged. “Good grief,” he grumbled. He choked a bit more as he weeped softly and silently, a lone tear trailing down his cheek making Lance look away.

He couldn’t stand to see his joyful ,strong father cave over something like this, if only there was some way he could help...Lance’s gaze traveled to the Van Gogh itself, as he continued staring at it, feeling absorbed by its bright colors, he couldn’t help but feel all this started with this disaster of a painting. Lance suddenly froze, thinking about the beginning when this started and remembered cool, grey eyes and a gentle smile with lips that knew what they were doing. With a shudder Lance, without taking his eyes off the painting, gently asked his father.

“Papa..whats the number for the hotel Ritz?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I fucking got sunburnt yesterday. I'm okay now..but still! Anyways, hope yall enjoyed!


	8. The Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance asks a certain thief for assistance with his plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise I updated twice in one day, they're both relatively short chapters so I felt these both kinda count as one update in general.

Lance was anxiously waiting at the downstairs restaurant of the Ritz, chatter and dishes clinking, adding to the noise as he sat there contemplating the whole thing. There was still time left, he could slip out, phone later, leave a message to Shiro saying to forget all about it. 

But then he remembered the sight of his father all yesterday after the news, refusing to eat much, hardly sleeping, drinking as much brandy as he could stomach. His father hadn’t even gotten out of bed, bemoaning his fate and preparing his death, which was a little much for Lance, but he let his father be.

He brought out his fidget toy, pressing the buttons to one side of the cube repeatedly as he scored the restaurant, keeping an eye out for a tall, broad shoulder Japanese-American man. A shadow darted right past Lance’s eyes distracting him, but he realized with a slight start this shadow was the very man he was waiting for.

He didn’t seem to recognize Lance, which he figured with his mask getup and dark clothes, and to think his father laughed at the sight of Lance wearing this jacket, it screamed espionage and danger, like James Bond 007. Shiro was dressed business casual, just a button shirt, no tie, tucked into some slacks, that showed off his tight ass-

_Dios mio, pull it together!_ , Lance shook his head. He whispered Shiro’s name softly, but after some frustration when the man just kept giving him a confused polite smile, Lance finally just called out,

“Shiro I’m right here quiznack!” Shiro glanced back at him, this time his eyes going wide as he studied Lance, who looked completely different. Good different…

His face was partially covered by a mask that was made of mesh and lace, only slightly obscuring Lance’s face. Shiro could see a light shimmer on his eyelids that sparkled and made his blue eyes pop out from the mask. The wool double zippered jacket Lance was wearing was tight around his lithe frame, a wide cowl neck collar hanging across his chest, showing off Lance’s smooth, unmarked neck and a bit of collarbone. Shiro also noted he was wearing tight skinny jeans tucked into black boots, that covered his thin shapely legs that went on for miles as far as Shiro could see. A stern cough brought his eyes back to Lance who was glaring at Shiro for ogling. Shiro blushed but offered a small smile in apology which Lance refused to admit, pulled on his heartstrings just a little.

“I’m sorry about that, I didn’t recognize you, you look..different.” Shiro pointed out, which Lance hummed disinterested, pretending to study the drink menu in his hand. The waiter came over then to take their drink orders which Shiro turned to face the man.

“I’ll take a scotch, neat please.” He stated, pointing to Lance. Lance nodded his head towards Shiro. “Likewise.” He smiled, eyes crinkling in their corners, which drew a breath from Shiro. The waiter bowed before leaving to retrieve their drinks when Lance scooted closer to Shiro.

Shiro smiled as he propped an arm on the table before leaning in close to Lance’s space.

“I was surprised to hear from you again, surprised but pleased La-”

“Shh. No names.” Lance stated looking around the area to see if anyone heard them. Shiro looked confused as he also gazed around before smirking and jerking his thumb towards the high ceiling.

“Well if its that private I’ve got a bottle or two upstairs in my room.” He joked but Lance placed a firm hand on his chest, drawing his full attention as he gazed into the mans lovely blue eyes.

“This is a business meeting. You see I’m in need of someone with your..talents I’ll guess we’ll call them. So you see Mr. Shi-”

“Please, no names. How can I help you?” Shiro asked, chuckling at Lance’s pout for being interrupted.

“Well theres no easy way to say this so I’ll just come out with it. Are you interested in a big time caper?” Lance asked, looking around the room again to make sure no one was paying attention. It was fairly cute.

“I’m sorry what?” Shiro asked confused. Lance rolled his eyes.

“You know a heist.” He whispered conspiratorially. Shiro frowned harder.

“A heist? Why do you mean a hei-oh you mean a burglary.” Shiro’s eyes widened as he now gazed around the room, super serious. He slid closer to Lance so as not to speak any louder in case someone was actually hearing them.

“So what’s the score?” Shiro whispered but drew back when the waiter appeared with their drinks. They waited till he was finished, giving him matching head nods of thanks before they each took a swallow of their scotch, both in desperate need to take the edge off.

“It won’t be easy.” Lance warned. Shiro scoffed.

“The harder it is, the more fun. Whatever the job, I’m in.” Shiro took another sip of his drink, confidant, until Lance’s next words.

“The Kleber-Lafayette Museum.” Shiro spewed his drink out over the table, earning a few curious onlookers gazes. He coughed as he now turned to Lance who had the decency to look embarrassed at his ridiculous request.

“I’m out.” Shiro told him flatly. Lance sputtered then, trying to convince Shiro to help him.

“But I need your help! This is serious!” He cried. Shiro shook his head.

“I know its serious, its the Kleber-Lafayette Museum! Look, just why that particular spot?” Shiro groaned, putting his head in his hand. Lance fidgeted with his toy, looking everywhere but Shiro.

“Umm, well it's the Cellini Venus.” Lance blanched when Shiro turned his head too quickly.

_“Your Cellini Venus?!”_ Shiro bellowed but stopped, realizing he was raising his voice. He glanced around before sliding closer to Lance, making sure the younger man heard every word of what he was about to say.

“Look, why do you want to steal a sculpture, _your own_ sculpture, from a very well guarded art museum?” Shiro asked, his gaze hard as he leaned over Lance.

Man why did this guy have to be taller than him? Lance shrunk into himself a little, looking everywhere but Shiro.

“Well it’s not technically my sculpture per say, it belongs to my father. Anyways, thats no concern of yours-”

“Yes it is, if I’m the one supposed to steal it! What foolishness are you getting into? Just..why? Is this some sort of publicity stunt?” Shiro asked, his gaze so befuddled, Lance felt his confusion and sighed, defeatedly.

“No um, it’s worth a million dollars, we wouldn’t need a stunt like that to gain us some money.”

“I know, theres also a million policeman prowling around, guarding it. That works out to be about a dollar per policeman, I don’t like that rate of exchange honestly.” Shiro quipped. When Lance gave him a sad look of rejection, Shiro had to look away.

“You mean you won’t do it?” Lance asked again, to be sure. Shiro shook his head.

“No.”

“Are you sure though?”

“Damn sure.” Shiro watched Lance lean away, sinking further into his seat. Shiro bit his lip, feeling bad for being the cause of that sorrowful expression on this handsome man's face.

“Listen, I’m sorry..but thank you for thinking of me I guess.” Shiro placed a hand on Lance’s knee, hoping to give him some comfort but Lance just shook it off, preparing to slide out of the booth.

“Listen, just..pretend this never happened.” He muttered as he began to leave. Shiro scrambled toward the edge, grabbing Lance’s elbow gently. 

“Wait, look. Um, finish your drink, theres no need to be in such a hurry after you’ve come down here.” Shiro pointed out. Lance shook his head.

“I think I’ve humiliated myself enough. I have to go.” Lance sighed. Shiro’s grip didn’t let up as he turned Lance to face him, carefully pulling him closer to lean in.

“Are you really serious about this? Look you heard what the director said at the museum, your sculpture is very well protected. The sensory circuits, the guards-” Shiro rambled.

“Well I was hoping to leave those details to you.” Lance said. Shiro sighed, hanging his head before lifting it and facing Lance with a new determination.

“Alright, how about this, I’ll sleep on it, and its getting late now, the museum will be closed, we’ll go over there in the morning, check out the premises. What those in the trade call, “casing the joint”.” Shiro offered. Lance smiled, feeling a smidgen of hope return as he stuck out his hand to shake on the deal. Shiro shook it, his grip strong but gentle. Lance could picture all sorts of ways Shiro’s strong hands would roam on his much smaller body-

“Thank you! Er-thank you very much.” Lance coughed, hoping Shiro somehow couldn’t mind read, although that was an impossible feat for many humans already.

“You know it’s still early enough for another drink, if you’d like? Why don’t I show you the real Paris?” He offered, smug smile popping up making Lance flush.

“I-I mean thats nice of you but I live here, I was born in Paris.” Lance laughed as Shiro’s face reddened.

“Oh thats right I forgot. Well how about this, why don’t you show me the real Paris then?” He offered, sliding closer and closer to Lance who normally would’ve allowed this flirty behavior with anyone but he was an art thief. He shouldn't be flirting back..right? Lance slid away as Shiro got closer, blushing embarrassingly at receiving so much attention. While he was generally pretty flirtatious with others and not too bad to look at, he hadn’t really met anyone who flirted with him back.

Safe to say that Lance was very thrown off by the whole ordeal.

“Look, I’m sorry but I really do have to get home to my father, and I’ve only got about two inches left of this bench before you slide any closer, so lets just end it here for the evening?” Lance offered. Shiro chuckled but nodded, letting Lance get up, admiring his tall frame and long legs from a new angle.

“Where and what time tomorrow?” Shiro broke off his gazing as he glanced up at the owner of such wonderful legs.

“Huh? Oh uh I say corner of Avenue Gabriel and Avenue Marginy, ten am sharp. Right?” Lance nodded, his gaze serious.

“Right.” And with a sudden flick of his fingers, Lance yanked on a hood that was attached to the body-hugging coat, pulling it over his head as he turned and exited the restaurant, Shiro watching amusedly as he left. Shiro turned to face the forgotten drinks, downing his in one gulp. Shiro sighed, letting the warmth spread, making his head feel fuzzy.

“What the hell did I get myself into?” he mumbled, as he finished Lance’s drink.


	9. Casing the Joint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro and Lance stake out the museum. Shiro has ideas.

At ten-am sharp as Shiro instructed, Lance met up with him at the designated meeting spot where they’d been driving since, drifting along the road till they came across the outside of the museum. Shiro pointed out the many guards lined up along the wall on the outside, proving his earlier exaggeration about “millions of guards watching”. 

“Is it these police that you’re worried about?” Lance scoffed. Shiro nodded.

“Yes, and also these, and the ones inside, the ones in the break room, also the ones standing guard in the courtyard area.” Shiro listed as Lance paled, feeling his face grow cold with sweat.

“But..these policemen here are guarding the Interior of the Ministry? What do they have to do with this?” Lance asked curious. Shiro gave him a hard look before he pointed at the guards across from the Ministry.

“And what about those guards?”

“They don’t have anything to do with us, they’re guarding government buildings. That’s where the president lives.” Lance explained.

“Yes and the museum you want to stick up is right between the two. I can practically smell the stench of the other men I’ll be forced to shower with in a community bathroom.” Shiro stated pointedly. He grimaced at the idea of being locked behind bars while Lance didn’t seem too against the idea surprisingly.

“Sounds like a good time to me.” Lance replied cheekily. Shiro gave him an unimpressed look with Lance smiling back at him, innocently.

"Lance, no." Shiro sighed and drove off to find a parking space.

**********

The museum was loud with the buzz of visitors chattering. Lance leaned against the railing at the top of the stairs as Shiro gazed at the Cellini. It had been going on like this for ten minutes now and Lance was sure one of the guards could tell what they were up to and were just about to come over to throw them in prison. 

As Lance glanced at Shiro, he watched as the man seemed to be concentrating, putting the most thought into coming up with a plan, which would be more exciting if he weren’t frowning so hard.

Shiro caught Lance’s pleading gaze and shook his head slightly, not wanting to discuss whatever it was he was thinking. Instead he got up from his slouched position and tapped Lance’s arm to follow him, as he began climbing down the steps towards the Cellini. Lance looked around, hoping they weren’t being too suspicious when Shiro pulled out some funky looking glasses and slipped them on. Lance grimaced as he watched him, pretty sure they were the walking definition of suspicious now. He watched Shiro lean forward, specifically checking out the Venus itself, in all its naked glory.

Lance flushed looking away, since Shiro was essentially admiring the form of his naked grandfather, as anyone would feel uncomfortable with their crush ogling their dead grandparent. Wait did he say crush?

“Not possible..” Shiro murmured. Lance flushed remembering his fear from earlier of Shiro hearing his thoughts.

“W-what?” he asked, loosening his tie a little as he fidgeted.

Shiro merely leaned back towards him now, lips twisted in a confused frown as he suddenly whipped his head towards Lance, staring him up and down, which Lance did not feel self conscious at all. Shiro kept glancing towards Lance and to the Venus, fear rising in Lance’s heart.

“That can’t be..” Shiro trailed, lowering the glasses to the bridge of his nose so he could look at Lance properly. Lance was growing more agitated from not knowing so he huffed as he turned to Shiro, hands on his hips.

“What?”

“Well uh, for a second, I thought I saw a resemblance?” Lance froze. Of all the people, throughout the years...No one had been able to see the similarities. Maybe if he played dumb, it would throw Shiro off the trail.

“Uh resemblance to what?” He asked, blinking. Shiro gazed at the Venus before cutting his eyes over Lance’s face.

“Well the Cellini and..you.” He stated simply, gesturing towards the Venus. Lance snorted, turning away from the Venus.

“That’s silly. I’m guessing thats how you pick up all your dates? Comparing them to artworks? Nice try, but I'm not that easy. Besides it’s at least 400 years old.” Lance sniffed as he turned away from the Venus. Shiro kept staring however, like he was trying to figure out its secrets.

“I know but…” Shiro slipped on the eyeglass frames again. Something wasn’t quite right about this Venus. He stepped closer only for a guard to pull him away, asking him to politely step back, Shiro apologizing graciously. He clicked his tongue as he gazed at the statue and turned back to his partner in crime.   

“So where precisely were you in the early part of the 16th century?” Lance flinched and realized he probably looked very guilty right now. He turned towards Shiro an unamused look on his face as he spoke;

“I don’t know, but thats not how I was dressed.” He mentioned, gesturing to the very loose, draped against his legs tunic the Venus was at one point wearing. Shiro looked back to the naked sculpture and back to Lance who stood there tapping his foot. Shiro hummed pleasantly, making Lance scoff and elbow him to get him to move along.

About ten feet away from the Cellini, Shiro walked over to a wall-mounted, gaudily decorated mirror surrounding a small, similarly themed fireplace. A tall four foot, ornate fireplace screen stood in front of it, capable of hiding anyone in the fireplace, Lance noted. Shiro seemed to be thinking the same thing till Lance noticed his gaze locked on an image through the mirror of a guard placing a broom in a small closet underneath the staircase. The area was blocked by a velvet rope, meaning only the staff could go past this rope to the closet and the doorway entrance the staff used. Lance waited patiently for Shiro to explain as his gaze drifted to watch the guard. He was placing what looked to be a key for the closet on the wall with other keys hanging there as well. The guard then left the area, unhooking the rope to leave then hooking it back in place. As he walked off, Shiro smiled, a devious plan coming to mind. He could tell by Lance’s prying eyes, he was wanting in on the plan, but this baby was under wraps for now till Shiro had the confirmation he needed.

Slyly he slinked toward the velvet rope, gesturing for Lance to keep quiet as he could tell Lance was about to voice his opposition. Shiro gazed about the room, making sure no one was paying him attention when he unhooked the velvet rope, stepping into the restricted area and re-hooking the rope back like it was. Lance seemed appalled and about to draw attention to them, so he gestured for Lance to stay there, giving him cover while he investigated the deal with the keys. He quietly walked over to the broom closet noticing it was big enough to hide in and turned to the side where he spotted the keys opposite the staff entrance door.

Shiro glanced around again making sure the coast was clear just in case, as he reached into his jacket and pulled out his measuring tape, measured the distance from the wall to the key and the height as well. Noting his measurements, he turned to pocket the tape and noticed a bucket next to an emergency firehose. Keeping those in mind, in case it came in handy, Shiro lurked back over to the rope, noticing Lance was humming a really bad version of the 007 theme song. Shiro hopped over the rope this time, slinking into his position next to Lance. Lance gave him questioning glances which Shiro paid no mind as he noticed the guards trading shifts then. Interested, Shiro followed the earlier guard across the room to a discrete door next to the bag check where he disappeared behind the door.

Shiro motioned for Lance to follow as he followed the guards trail he left, through the crowd. Lance had no idea what Shiro was planning, giving him confused glances and an eye roll whenever Shiro would shush him before he could ask a question. He was especially bewildered when Shiro dragged him over to a painting to gesture to it, making no comment or sound, yet when Lance turned to question him, Shiro ducked behind a door. Lance was about to follow him, when Shiro’s hand darted out, gesturing for him to stay put. Pouting and nervous, Lance waited near the door, catching the eye of a guard standing nearby and smiling nervously.

                                                                                                ********

Shiro gazed around the small hallway, there were bathrooms for both male and female employees, the directors office, and another door left blank which he assumed to be where the guards hung out. Shiro inhaled a bit then sighed, hoping his one acting class from college would help him out in his time of need. Straightening his jacket and tie, Shiro rolled his shoulders and headed into the room. 

Like he guessed, this was the room the guards hung out, a small table with various lunches and personal items belonging to the guards. A small kitchenette to cook, a worn leather couch containing one guard, who looked to be asleep, and one busy cooking a meal. There were also many alarms and clocks on the wall opposite of the doorway, and another set of doors. Frowning, Shiro took a breath, happy none of the guards had noticed his presence yet and took a step in, slamming the door with a loud _bang!_

The guard that was asleep on the couch, fell and then sprang back up, falling into a salute automatically. The other guard by the kitchen didn’t even jump, just spun around leering at Shiro with tired eyes that made Shiro feel a tad sorry for him.

“Who’s in charge here?” Shiro demanded, using his best authoritative voice, which also sounded like his dad voice, as his friends at work called it. The guard who was asleep popped up then. 

“Sir! At your service sir!” He exclaimed. Shiro narrowed his eyes, doing his best to look intimidating.

“Zarkon, Assistant deputy chairman, commission of tourism.” Shiro gave him, waving off the salute. He didn’t know this Zarkon guy personally but from what he learned at work in France, the guy was a huge dick, so better to use this asshole's name than his own. Shiro walked around, making sure to look everywhere and look disgusted doing so.

“Isn’t this place cleaned regularly? Look at this sleeve, just from brushing against the woodwork!” As the guard leaned in to look closer, Shiro made sure to pat his arm, as if dusting himself off.

“I’m sorry, sir, but we have a complete staff of cleaning women.” The guard noted. Shiro snorted.

“Once a month I suppose.” He tsked. The guard shook his head.

“Every night sir. From midnight till two am for the daily deep cleaning. They wax the floors and everything I assure you.” Shiro hummed as he continued brushing his sleeve, mostly all over the guard who was getting agitated by the treatment.

“Mm-hmm. Well, see that they do their jobs properly, or I’ll make a report.” Shiro threatened, secretly enjoying the nervous fear that showed on the guards face.

“Y-yes sir.” He stammered. His buddy still hanging out by the small stove, nodding as well. Shiro nodded.

“Good. Well, carry on. I assume this is the way out.” He said quickly reaching for the other door and opening it, despite the guards warnings. Shiro came face to face with a set of spiral steps that led upstairs and down. Shiro narrowed his eyes wondering where they could lead to when the guard caught his sleeve.

“This way sir.” He noted, towards the other doorway. Shiro hummed, trying to look surprised as he glanced down at the stairs again.

“Funny, I thought it was this way. What is down here anyway?” Shiro asked curious.

“It’s a secret stairwell for the guards sir. So we can slip in and out of the museum so we’re not using the visitors entrance. It leads to an entrance outside but only opens with either an access of a key or from the inside.” The guard explained, confused as to why the assistant deputy chairman commissioner needed to know this. Shiro nodded his head, thinking before leaving the staircase and heading back the other way.

“Very well then, gentlemen.” Shiro paused by the head guard, giving him a calculating gaze before he reached up and messily undid the top button of the mans uniform jacket to mess with him. He walked away, biting his lips to keep from smiling as he heard the guard sputtering indignantly to his coworker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm done writing this story, I just need to finish uploading it and I might possibly write a sequel because I kinda like this au actually?


	10. Thinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Shiro begin to piece a plan together but will Shiro go through with it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the wonderful comments and kudos!

Lance was staring off into space when a firm hand gripped him by the elbow, escorting him away. Just as he was about to kick and shout at the person, he realized it was Shiro. 

“I’ll tell you everything once we’re outside.” Shiro promised. He made them pause, as he gazed at the bag check where many visitors were leaving their large purses and bags behind a counter to be watched after while they explored the art. Nodding to himself, Shiro tugged on Lance’s arm again, getting him to walk outside with him. As the gravel crunched beneath their feet, Shiro finally turned towards Lance.

“Don’t you think its a bit too pushy, starting with a million-dollar robbery? I mean we’ve got to learn how to walk before we run first. In fact, I know a smaller gallery we can rob first, feel a small burst of adrenaline and see how we feel later with this?” Shiro offered. He noted the sad frown on Lance’s face though and furrowed his brow.

“No good?” Shiro asked. Lance turned to face him, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“No good at all.” He stated, wiping his eyes as he sat down on a bench. Shiro sat next to him, careful to keep his distance from the upset man.

“Alright, next question. Why must it be the Cellini?” Shiro asked confused. Lance looked back at him, appalled.

“Well, you don’t think I’d steal something that wasn’t _mine_ would you?” Lance accused. Shiro stared flabbergasted until he shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Excuse me then, I spoke without thinking, I guess.” Shiro sighed. He glanced back at Lance who appeared just as worn out as he looked.

“Why not just wait till it returns home, and steal it then? No mess, no fuss, a nice, clean inside job. You can even do it in your pajamas, I’d be delighted to offer my services.” Shiro advised. Lance shook his head.

“Look this isn’t some prank alright? It’s something I have to do because..I have to do it!” Lance ranted. Shiro watched him closely, his brows furrowed in worry, before facing him and placing his hands on Lance’s shoulders.

“Is someone threatening you and your family to do this? I can’t picture harmless you wanting to suddenly up and decide to steal his own sculpture. Tell me honestly.” Shiro pressed. Lance squeezed his lips, feeling a different emotion take hold of him, as he felt Shiro’s strength in his comforting grip. 

“No one is threatening me or Papa. I just..have to do this. And I’m plenty harmful thank you very much! Remember that gunshot wound the first night?” Lance mentioned. Shiro chuckled remembering it all too well. A disheveled Lance in his boxers and t-shirt, with his bare legs on full display, and a gun pointing right at his chest. Pretty much the night Shiro had decided to throw out all common sense and reason.

“Yes my arm twitches every time I think of it. Truly an excellent marksman.” Shiro praised, appreciating the light red color, blooming on Lance’s cheeks.

“Uh-uh, thank you! And don’t you forget it!” Lance puffed out his chest, wanting to feel strong and brave but let out a yelp as Shiro poked him in the ribs.

“Let’s move somewhere more private, with no guards around.” Shiro whispered as he offered his arm to Lance. Lance accepted and the two strolled out of the museum courtyard and down the street to a nearby park.

Shiro sat them down on a bench facing a small water fountain that wasn’t as grandiose and more farther away from people.

“Look, we have to look at the facts impartially. We can’t get past the alarm, that’s out. We can’t tamper with it, that’s out. We can’t turn it off, tha-”

“That’s out.” Lance interrupted, rolling his eyes. Shiro gave him a questioning glance which Lance huffed.

“Some burglar you are.” Lance muttered, giving Shiro a nagging look, but Shiro was too distracted by the new couple seated behind them. Without a word, Shiro offered his arm again, which Lance took and they set off walking again.

As they walked silently, both of them far away in their own minds to make conversation. Lance looked up, hearing the laughing of children nearby and realized they were in the children's part of the park. With rides and vendors showing off the latest entertainment in toys, Lance smiled, watching a young boy ask for one of the colorful snow cones nearby and an amused father relenting. The scene reminded him of when his father would bring him here after school sometimes to enjoy the air and sunshine and treats. He sniffled as he turned away. Now was not the time to get emotional, he needed to focus.

“So is this how you work, by walking everywhere?” Lance asked, mostly to distract himself.

Shiro sighed as he glanced over at him. 

“Im thinking. See how wrinkly my forehead is, that’s how you know I’m planning something big.” Shiro protested, pausing to make Lance look at his forehead. Lance scoffed, pressing his finger against Shiro’s forehead and pushing him away.

“And I suppose the grey hairs are from the stress of your plan?” Lance asked curious. Shiro chuckled a little before he shrugged.

“No they were actually when I was enlisted in the military when I was alot younger. Though you were right, it was due to stress.” Shiro stated. Lance paused feeling a new wave of different emotions come over him. Shiro in the military? It was hard to see him dressed up in a uniform, okay maybe not that hard. What made him turn to burglary when he was in the military? Lance questioned as he studied Shiro who was deep in thought again.

Lance traced over his figure till his eyes landed on the prosthetic arm. Shiro usually wore long sleeves and gloves, so Lance had naturally forgotten all about it after their first night when he was treating Shiro’s wound. He gazed at the silver almost onyx metallic hand, curled up in a fist as he was walking. If Shiro got that prosthetic from the military it could be possible he had to leave the military because of that injury, maybe he was honorably discharged, or maybe not.

Maybe thats what turned him to a life of crime, not being able to serve anymore, Lance wondered as he glanced at Shiro saddened by the idea of him being in distress and being forced to do this when a flying object twirled in front of them, distracting Lance completely. It was some boomerang toy with four ends, flying around by dozens of children. As Lance watched the toys flying around, Shiro finally turned to him, snapping his fingers as well.

“I got an idea. What we need is to use someone on the inside, one of the staff, maybe a guard, to switch off the alarm system.” Shiro nodded, feeling the inner cogs grinding in his head. Lance nodded along.

“Maybe like bribe someone?” He asked.

“Excellent idea, but no. I don’t know which guard knows how to turn off the alarm system and we can’t risk playing with that kind of gambling.” Shiro reminded. Lance nodded then turned towards the boomerang toys, trying to think as he stared off into space.

“Maybe if we trip the alarm system enough times, the guard will willingly turn it off. But what can we use for that?” Shiro asked out loud. He was pacing a little next to Lance who stared at the boomerang toy until he realized the answer was in front of them all along.

“Shiro, I have an idea.”

“Oh no.” Shiro grumbled ignoring Lance’s indignant pout as he hurried over to the vendor and asked about the boomerang. Lance paid for two and excitedly ran back over to Shiro who stood there bewildered.

“Okay I knew you were slightly younger than me, but this is ridiculous.” Shiro pointed at the two boomerang toys gripped in each of Lance’s hands. Lance merely smiled, elated.

“C’mon, let me show you my idea.” He yelled excited as he took off towards the riverbank, where not many people were gathered. Shiro chuckled, walking after him.

                                                                                           ********

“So you said we just needed to trip the alarm system somehow right? What if we used this boomerang toy?” Lance demonstrated, throwing the toy exactly as the vendor described and watching as it flew in an angle before flying back towards him. Lance ran as he eagerly caught it mid-air, jumping for the extra height. Lance turned flushed as he faced Shiro, his eyes lit up with happiness and adrenaline.

“C’mon you should try!” Lance offered Shiro the other one. Shiro simply shook his head.

“Lance I thought you hired me to help you steal your statue, not play games with you.” Shiro scolded. Lance scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Obviously, you’re not the fun type when you go on heists.” He smirked when Shiro’s face flushed.

“I am plenty of fun! Ok watch this.” Shiro took one of the boomerangs and perfectly hurled it, the toy spinning farther out than Lance’s had and angling perfectly to fly right back into Shiro’s waiting hand.

“That was so cool! You should teach me sometime!” Lance gushed smiling widely feeding the flames currently heating Shiro’s entire face. He coughed trying to feel somewhat normal again after that dazzling display of art before him.

“Alright so we may have part of a plan. Good job Lance.” Shiro praised, smiling at how bashful Lance got. 

“Ok so we have a plan now! That’s good!” He beamed. Shiro shook his head before crossing his arms.

“I said we have part of a plan. We know how we’re going to trip the alarm and get the guards to turn it off, but we still need a plan to get in and get out.” Shiro stated firmly. Lance sagged his shoulders.

“Oh thats right.” He mumbled, dejected. Shiro patted his arm in comfort.

“It’s okay because I know the rest of the plan.” He winked as Lance gaped at him.

“You are so smug, you know that right?” Lance smirked while Shiro chuckled and folded up their new toys.

“Well when you frequent certain criminal circles, you tend to pick up certain traits.” Shiro joked, opening the car door for Lance and helping him slide in before he got in the drivers side.

“So now where are we going?” Lance asked as Shiro turned on the car.

“My apartment.” He stated simply, not noticing the stiffness Lance had become.

“S-Shiro! This is a strictly business relationship, nothing else!” Lance sputtered, his face red, eyes accusing. Shiro merely blinked regarding Lance cooly.

“I’m perfectly aware of that, Lance. I’m also aware of the difference in social classes, you, the son of a famous art collector, and I, a humble burglar. Now that that’s cleared up, lets say we go discuss the plan.” Shiro jeered, enjoying the flustered look pass over Lance’s face. They took off in the car, heading for the Ritz as well as making a quick detour to pick up a few things.

                                                                                                    *********

As Shiro opened the door to his apartment, Lance walked in lightly, taking in every appearance of the small apartment Shiro was renting for a short while.

“Ah home sweet home! Please excuse the small room, I know you’re used to more elaborate living arrangements.” Shiro apologized. Lance shook his head.

“No, its nice! Honestly, its my father who prefers all that decorated nonsense. I’m a pretty simple person. Except when it comes to my looks of course.” Lance raked his fingers through his hair, striking a pose while grinning. Shiro smiled.

“We’re more alike than it seems then…Anyways, theres the bathroom. Here’s the stuff. Now go take off your clothes.” Shiro instructed, tossing the paper bag he was carrying to Lance.

Lance stared at him confused and mildly flushed.

“Take a guy on a date first, geez. We are planning the same crime, aren’t we?” Lance peered at him disbelieving. Shiro laughed.

“It’s your costume, for dress rehearsal. I need to make sure you look perfect for your part in the plan.” Shiro reasoned. Lance narrowed his eyes at Shiro before glancing back at the bag in contempt.

“Alright…But if I find a frilly maid uniform in here, I’m gonna be pissed!” Shiro’s eyes popped open as his face turned dark with a blush spreading across his face. 

“God no! Lance just..get in there already and try the damn clothes on.” Shiro shooed Lance away towards the bathroom before sighing against the closed door. This man was gonna be the death of him, Shiro swore for the hundredth time. As he waited on Lance, Shiro stepped out on the small balcony overlooking the small area and the column. Shiro glanced at the statue on top of the column, measuring the distance and height before he took out the boomerang and practiced his wrist flick, until he tossed it. The first time, the toy nearly fell down the building, Shiro barely catching it before he tried again, this time his aim working perfectly and coming back, only barely smashing into his neighbors window.

Shiro sighed, not sure how this would work in a smaller space until he heard the bathroom door click, followed by a soft “I’m ready.” Shiro stepped out of the balcony to be faced with..some raggedy hunched figure of Lance. Shiro chuckled walking around Lance, taking in the long, denim patchy skirt, covered by a pinned apron, and his oversized, much too large work shirt tucked in at the waist band. His nice, expensive shoes were replaced with worn, ragged slip ons that had seen better days one point in time.

“Perfect, it just needs one adjustment.” Shiro criticized, pulling an item out of the bag. Shiro mussed with Lance’s perfected hairstyle, earning a sharp outcry of “Hey!” from said victim. Shiro yanked a red bucket hat on top of Lance’s head, messing with his hair further and matching the angry red tint across Lance’s face. Shiro gestured for Lance to bend down, till he was on the ground, with a scrub brush and bucket in each hand.

“Yes thats fine, that certainly does it.” Shiro nodded, approvingly. Lance set down his items, crossing his arms.

“Does what?” He asked almost afraid of the answer.

“Well it gives Givenchy a night off for one thing. And it’ll come in handy when the cleaning women come in at midnight and you won’t stand out as much.” Shiro finished, stepping back to look at Lance in full view.

“I'm going to be disguised as a cleaning woman? That's not manly at all! Wait..so you do have a plan, don’t you?” Lance asked, feeling hopeful all over again, they could pull this off. Shiro nodded, sitting in his chair.

“Yep! Now listen very carefully, my plan is, on the night of the crime, I’m going to be curled up in that bed with my plan and a very good book.” Shiro pointed at the bed for emphasis. Lance processed his words and Shiro’s stern tone and expression. He sagged as he felt his whole world crashing again for the second time that week.

 


	11. A Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro is tired and Lotor is a distraction as always.

“Why?” Lance couldn’t help but ask. His voice wouldn’t come out any louder than a whisper, he was in such shock. 

What had changed Shiro’s mind so suddenly, although that was a stupid question to ask, he hadn’t been wanting to do this since Lance first mentioned it. Feeling tears pricking the back of his eyes, Lance watched as Shiro sighed before giving Lance his harshest look. 

“Why? You want to know why? I’m the one who should be asking you that, why? Why are we breaking into one of the most heavily-guarded museums to steal a precious, million dollar statue, that belongs to _you_? _Why!_ ” Shiro ranted, giving Lance his most stern glare, Lance had to look away, ashamed.

“I already told you I can’t tell you why.” Lance sniffed, trying desperately to keep the tears at bay. He felt cold, metal fingers that oddly felt comforting, caress his cheek before gently prodding his chin to make him glance up at Shiro, hunched over him, concerned.

“I’m sorry, but thats not a good enough explanation.” Shiro said simply. Lance nodded, feeling a few tears start leaking already. He started nodding his head, accepting.

“I mean, you’re right. You’re perfectly right. If I was in your place in this situation, I’d feel the same way. I’m just in trouble ok? My father is too...But that’s nothing to do with you and I can’t explain anymore than that. I’m going to get out of these clothes…” Lance stood up, trying to come to grips with his new reality, he wouldn’t see his father again the day after tomorrow. He should probably head home to spend as much time with him as he could then. He felt a few more tears leak out, making Shiro groan causing him to look up.

“No, no no no no no. No. Don’t you dare cry in front of me about this.” Shiro warned, his face losing its earlier stern expression, easing into one of sympathy and regret.

Lance sniffled, feeling the snot work its way to the front as he wiped his eyes, ducking his head away from Shiro so he wouldn’t see.

“I’m not! It-it’s allergies.” He weakly argued, sputtering as his frame shook a little.

“It’s not going to work…I’m not going to soften up just because of a few water works.” Shiro stated, although it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself. Lance shook his head.

“It’s just something in my eye! I’m going now anyways.” Lance sniffed, wiping the back of his hand across his eyes as he headed towards the bathroom. Shiro watched him leave, feeling his resolve crumble as Lance paced sadly back to his bathroom.

“Stop! Wait…..Meet me outside the museum in the courtyard. Five-thirty sharp.” Shiro groaned, clamping a hand over his eyes. Lance spun around, shock on his face that slowly melted into a smile of hope and wonder.

“Really? You’ll help?” He asked, hopeful. Shiro begrudgingly nodded. Not happy with himself until his arms held a handful of Lance, who was hugging him tightly.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you Shiro!” Lance pecked Shiro really quick on the cheek, rushing to the bathroom to change out of his ridiculous getup. Shiro stood frozen, at not only what he had just done, but also the lingering warmth left on the side of face that was beginning to spread. Shiro cursed himself as he sank to his bed.

“What the hell did I get myself into?” He wondered again out loud.

                                                                                                **********

The next day at precisely five-fifteen, Lance hurried down the stairs, his costume in the paper bag Shiro had swore to him to not forget, and wearing his most comfy outfit for spending in a museum all night. Marcel glanced up as the young master approached, expecting the usual for dinner to be brought to the study where he often caught up on work related things, but was instead surprised to hear this; 

“Marcel, I’m going out tonight so I won’t be in for dinner. Could you please bring Papa something though? He still refuses to get out of bed.” Lance asked, his brow crinkling in worry at the behavior of his father recently after the news. Then again, it was understandable. Marcel nodded before bowing slightly.

“Of course Monsieur. May I ask what time you will be back?” Marcel asked. Lance shook his head.

“I’m not entirely too sure, I’ll be up pretty late with some friends…Anyways, if anyone calls or visits, you don’t know where I am or how to reach me. Papa is also not to be disturbed either, he’s really in no condition to receive guests.” Lance explained, about to open the front door when the doorbell rang. Panicking, Lance turned to Marcel who was also startled that somebody would approach the door, right when Lance was trying to avoid company!

Lance hurried out of the foyer, sliding past one of the decorative, indoor columns that opened up the foyer into the lounge, when he was safe out of sight, he waved to Marcel who opened the door in confusion.

“Good afternoon. Just tell Mr. Lance Ramirez-McClain that I’m here, will you, please?” a gruff, American accent being heard from the entrance. Lance scrunched his face in confusion. _The hell was Lotor doing here?_

“I’m sorry sir, the young master has gone out.” Marcel explained. Good ol’ Marcel, Lance cheered in his head.

“Out? Are you sure? His car’s in the courtyard…” Lotor pointed out suspicious. Marcel shook his head.

“Quite sure. He took a taxi.” Marcel reasoned. Lotor nodded his head. 

“I see…Well then, I’ll just wait here for him then.” Lotor stated simply, perching himself on one of the ornate chairs in the foyer. Lance rolled his eyes impatient. Damn this man, he thought irritated. He caught Marcel’s eye and gestured for him to distract Lotor, send him off, do something.

“Sir, the young master has made it clear, there are to be no guests allowed at this time. You see, the head of the household, Master Ramirez-McClain is not feeling well, I’m sure the young master would understand and get back with yo-”

“Nope, this is very important! Besides the ‘young master’ and I are..special friends. If you know what I mean.” Lotor winked. Marcel merely frowned. Lance gagged at the idea. Who the hell did Lotor think he was?

“I highly doubt that if I may be so bold sir.” Marcel stated, Lotor giving him the stink eye. Lance used this opportunity to try to sneak to one of the other entrances to the kitchen where he could escape through the kitchen door. There were two entrances on this side of the house, one in the foyer and one in the kitchen. If Lance could sneak his way through the lounge, where a door connected to the kitchen, he could leave through there and slip past Lotor and whatever distraction he was currently trying to come up with. The only problem was Lotor was sitting right beside the entrance to the lounge and could easily spot Lance trying to slip past. He had to be especially careful.

With a plan in mind, Lance swiftly tiptoed by the foyer, feeling great with his stealth skills. He was like the real James Bond in this moment, only he didn’t count on the large hallway mirror that faced the lounge. Lotor spied Lance’s reflection striding past the doorway through the mirror and a loud “A-ha!” cried out from his lips. He chuckled at Marcel, thinking it was all some elaborate ruse as he walked forward, not realizing it was a mirror and not another room, and wound up crashing into it, jumping back startled.

Marcel glanced back at Lance unimpressed, raising an eyebrow, almost asking “this is the man you’re ‘special friends’ with?” Lance gave Marcel a withering look as Lotor turned around and faced the real Lance.

“Oh there you are! Not sure what kind of games you’re playing you little minx, but I love them anyway.” Lotor stated, taking Lance’s hand in his and kissing it all over. Lance cringed.

“Oh! Lotor! What a..nice surprise?” He laughed, hoping Lotor couldn’t hear how fake it was.

“Just to be clear, I did go out and I just returned home!” Lance added, not wanting to get Marcel in trouble with this clown.

“And now I have to be rushing off again, thank you for stopping by! I’ll show Lotor out Marcel.” Lance tried to escort Lotor towards the door but the man stopped, even tightening his grip on Lance so he couldn't escape.

“Out? Oh no, I’m all rehearsed and ready to dive into this! I have a speech prepared and everything! Don’t worry it’s only a short speech.” Lotor added, seeing Lance’s eyes widen.

“I really have to go, I have an appointment. A business one.” Lance nodded to himself. That sounded important enough. Lotor waved him off, pulling him towards one of the foyer chairs, despite Lance’s protests.

“Business, business, business. That’s all you French men seem to think about.” He rolled his eyes. Lance scoffed, if anyone was all about business, it was Lotor!

"Cuban-Irish, actually. I was also born and raised here." Lance corrected but it appeared Lotor wasn't even listening!

“You’re in a rush, you want action. Fine.” Lotor nodded, seemingly pleased. Lance nodded confused.

“Yeah, yeah action. I want that.” He coughed. If it was action involving Shiro, he certainly wouldn’t mind some right then.

“That’s my mood too! Catch!” Lotor tossed a small blue and white box towards Lance who barely managed to grab it. Confused, Lance opened the box, to gasp shocked at the glittering ring inside.

“Oh Lotor!” He looked up at the man in shock.

“Yes, yes I know. Please no speeches.” Lotor waved him off again, stepping closer. Lance hunched in on himself confused out of his mind.

“But why?”

“Why? My dear Lance, thats the silliest question I’ve ever heard of. Here, lets slip this on, give it a try?” Lotor pulled out the ring, reaching for Lance’s hand, who yanked it away.

“But this is looney tooney! We don’t even know each other!” Lance pointed out. He grabbed Lotor’s shoulder, gently urging him towards the door.

“Please come back tomorrow, we can discuss this then-”

“Nope, I’ve made up my mind Lance-whatever you’re middle name is-McClain.” Lance sighed, irritated as he threw his hands over his face, defeated.

“It’s Ramirez-McClain.” He reminded, sourly which Lotor waved off.

“Yes I know, man of action. Snap judgement. I once bought a whole fleet of ships that way once. One of the best deals I ever made!” Lance sighed, pressing the ring back towards Lotor.

“But I’m not a fleet of ships, and I’m not getting engaged to a man I barely know!”

“But you’ll get to know me! That’s what marriages are all about! Look me up in Forbes magazine.” Lotor slid the ring on Lance’s left hand, ignoring Lance’s protests.

“There. Pretty. It’s a deal?” He asked. Lance shook his head staring at the ring.

“Well yes-no! I’m-I’m a little dizzy from all this and this ring is just blinding me, I really have to go now!” Lance announced and tried to leave but Lotor’s hands grabbed his waist, pulling Lance flushed against him.

“No no, relax. I’ve never been engaged to such a fidgety man in all my life.” Lotor chuckled. Lance wondered when Lotor was gonna shut up and finally leave, when Lotor snapped his fingers in realization. 

“Oh the kiss!” And before Lance could shove him away, Lotor’s arms were encircled over his waist again, pulling him into a dip as his lips pressed against Lance’s, cold and hard, making Lance pretty uncomfortable. Lance checked his watch and his eyes widened as he saw the time. With a grunt, he managed to pry Lotor off and apologize before rushing out the front door, promising to have a little talk when he got back. Lotor stood in a daze.

“Wow, I’ve never been kissed like that my whole life.” He stuttered, amazed, not noticing a judging Marcel in the background.

Marcel idly clutched the secret pocket revolver the master permitted him to use if Lance was ever being accosted by an ‘excitable guest’. He fingered the cool metal slyly, he’d save it for another time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah Lotor was a dick in this chapter, it just sort of happened but he'll get whats coming to him later, I promise.


	12. Now We Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro explains(well kinda) the plan to Lance. Their big time heist begins!

Shiro paced around outside the museum. It was almost five-thirty, their scheduled meeting time, and Lance was still nowhere to be seen. A loud car door slammed and quick footsteps made him glance up to see Lance rushing over with his bag, his face flushed. 

“There you are, where have you been?” Shiro asked, frowning. Lance paused to take a breath before he looked up at Shiro serious.

“I was just proposed to.” Lance breathed like it was all some dream he was having. He honestly still couldn’t believe it. Shiro’s eyes popped open, eyes widening as Lance merely looked around, seeing people getting ready to leave the museum.

“Let’s go, the guy showed up just as I was leaving. He wants to marry me apparently. I didn’t want to keep you waiting, so I got engaged just so I could leave.” Lance explained. Shiro merely kept staring, giving Lance an incredulous look.

“Oh, okay fine. Well you know we got a little time left, perhaps you’d like to go back and marry the poor bastard?” Shiro chuckled without humor. Lance swatted Shiro’s arm.

“Not funny. Now come on.” Lance wrapped his hand around Shiro’s arm, tugging him to the entrance till Shiro relented and moved with him. As they entered, they were stopped by one of the guards, asking for Lance to check his bag with the bag check in, which Lance glanced to Shiro unsure, who nodded slightly urging him to move along. Once the bag was checked, Lance looked to Shiro confused, who was idly flipping through the book with the exhibitions listed and pretending to read them. Lance tried to ask about the plan only for Shiro to shake his head slightly as he guided Lance towards the exhibits. 

As they walked around, Lance glanced around, feeling like they were being too obvious about their plan. He bit his lip nervously, as he gazed at one guard whose stern, steady gaze made Lance feel like he was aware of their plan and was simply biding his time to pounce on them. Shiro gripped his arm, making him halt as he glanced up at Shiro with a curious gaze. Shiro smiled and nodded his head towards the guard who was looking everywhere except for their direction at the moment.

“I need to get behind the rope but I’ll need you to distract that guard for me, pretty please.” Shiro whispered, Lance shaking his head.

“How the quiznack do I distract a guard?” Lance hissed. Shiro shrugged.

“You’re young and pretty, just ask him where the bathrooms are. He’ll most likely point you in the right direction, giving me enough time to slip away.” Shiro outlined for him. It was a worth a shot, Lance sighed, before he straightened up and headed over to the guard, Shiro mentioned. It wasn’t an old guard, the man looked to be around Shiro’s age. Lance forced a smile as he positioned himself in front of the guard, where the guard was facing him and no longer blocking the off limits area.

“Umm can you point to me where the restrooms are?” Lance asked hesitant, fluttering his eyelashes a little, making the guard choke a little as his face heated up.

“Su-sure! You go down this hallway, make a right and there’ll be a door next to the bag check in. The restrooms are behind that door monsieur.” The guard directed Lance, using hand gestures, while Lance slyly noticed Shiro hurry behind the rope. Lance nodded his head, leaning back a little when he realized how closer the guard was.

“Ok, thank you sir.” He thanked and proceeded to walk the complete opposite way of where the guard was pointing, leaving a dumbfounded guard behind as he trailed along, pretending to inspect paintings while he waited for Shiro to be done with his mission.

                                                                                                ***********

Shiro idly listened to the small banter between Lance and the guard, especially noticing how close the guard was standing next to Lance. Shiro tsked, reminding himself Lance was off limits now, considering he was engaged apparently. He quickly went to work, taking the number 4 key, the same one the guard used the other day for the closet door, and quietly slipped it into the door, unlocking it and pulling the key out. Shiro gently closed the door, leaving only a slight crack, confident they had a safe place for them to hide during their stay as he put the key back. 

With the guard safely looking the other way, Shiro slipped out from behind the rope to meet Lance by the ornate chimney from last time.

“What were you doing?” Lance asked as he followed Shiro around. Shiro stopped to inspect the chimney, still making sure there was nothing inside it.

“Just checking on our accommodations sweetheart.” Shiro smiled at Lance’s confused yet flushing face. A guard moved then giving them a look, with Lance going white thinking he had seen and overheard but realized he was only giving them that look because Shiro was touching the chimney screen. Shiro took his fingers off the edge, wiggling them teasingly at the guard before Lance dragged him away.

They wound up in the main area with the Cellini again, both Shiro and Lance pausing to look at it. Shiro bent forward, eyes squinting as he gazed at the figures face, before sharply turning to Lance and studying his features. Lance looked away uncomfortable, till cold, gentle fingers slid under his chin, turning his face to the opposite side so Shiro could study his profile. Lance groaned.

“Oh don’t start that again.” He whispered. Shiro merely narrowed his eyes, glancing at the Cellini again. 

“I could swear that-” He began but Lance walked away not wanting to listen. They walked away, Shiro glancing back and forth, noticing how alike the Cellini Venus was to its owner.   

“Well whats the plan?” Lance asked quietly as Shiro steered them over to a small room with several of the great masters works displayed. He checked the time and hummed pleasantly.

“Well we have a few moments for cultural improvement.” He stated, stopping to admire a piece in front of them. Lance looked bewildered by his answer before he leaned over, whispering more quietly, “How do we get past the alarm?”

Shiro walked away, much to the frustration of Lance as they inspected another piece, by Picasso.

“Like this gentlemen here, I’m depending on normal human reactions. Oh..Blue period?” He asked the guard, who glanced up at the painting and shrugged. Shiro chuckled, moseying over to the next painting, another by Picasso. 

“Regard the subtle harmony of color. Now the nice thing about the complicated mechanical devices is, if they do suddenly go haywire-” Shiro turned away, walking over to the next painting, a Kandinsky, with Lance trailing behind.

“And? What comes after haywire?”” He asked, gripping Shiro’s arm.

“Well people in charge have a tendency to create panic, and to run around in confused circles.” Shiro pointed at the circles in the painting. “And in that moment, we strike.” He finished, turning to Lance. He spotted something at the corner of his eye and turned, beaming.

“Oh, Rembrandt! Come closer and look Lance.” Shiro encouraged, pulling Lance closer who sighed in response. Shiro leaned in closer then to whisper in Lance’s ear, where no one could make out what he was saying.

“So this is the point of no return as they say. In one minute the last call bell will go off. We can leave quietly with the others, pretend we never thought about doing this and go have a nice dinner, or we can stay. Then we’re committed to go through it. It's your choice but you must really want it badly.” Shiro explained. Lance spun around giving him a confidant, 'ready for anything' look.

“More badly than anything.” He breathed his gaze not wavering from Shiro’s. Shiro closely watched him before finally nodding his head, satisfied with Lance’s answer.

“Okay, you’re the boss, just listen to my advice and we should be good, now lets go.” Shiro smiled. Lance mirroring the expression back as they exited the smaller room together. 

With his arm linked in Shiro’s, they walked back around the room, entering the main area with the Cellini again. Shiro suddenly stopped and pulled Lance flush against the wall, so they were watching everyone in the room instead.

“Standby for the countdown.” Shiro murmured taking out his watch as he counted down the last seconds. Lance paused waiting to hear that loud ringing but gazed around confused with Shiro looking the same.

As Shiro pressed his watch to his ear, wondering if it was functioning properly, the bell clanged, causing them to jump, startled. People started to make their way to the exit, Shiro and Lance remaining by the wall, watching until Shiro scouted the area, watching for guards as he sneakily poured something into the exhibition booklet before he placed it precariously on a bit of he wall ledge. Lance gave Shiro a perplexed look which Shiro nodded towards the guard as he whispered, “Watch for normal human reactions.” Lance just rolled his eyes, completely done.

Shiro tugged lightly on his arm, both of them drifting away from the booklet and seemingly, joining the traffic flow of the others. Lance could idly see one guard going around, collecting trash left behind and wondered if Shiro had counted on this happening. They took about three steps, Shiro glancing back a little when the sound of a handful of marbles scattered, catching the attention of not one guard, but two and several onlookers. As they began to help the guard clean up, Shiro quickly pulled Lance towards the mirror.

Lance quickly took in his expression, pouting when he caught sight of his cowlick popping up on the back of his head. Before he could flatten it as best he could, Shiro shoved him down, towards the chimney area, Lance nearly letting out a yelp of surprise before he was sitting on cool tile, in a small dark space, well hidden from any nearby guards or visitors. He realized this was part of Shiro’s plan and watched with bated breath as he spied Shiro’s feet walk slowly by the chimney screener.

Shiro kept watch of the crowd, making sure nobody had seen what he did, and thankfully they were all too busy cleaning the mess he caused. He’d never been the type of person to even leave trash around like that but when desperate times call for desperate measures..oh who is he kidding. He's stealing a million dollar statue for christ sake.

Shiro watched everyone through the mirror, pretending to casually fix his tie as he waited for the coast to be clear. As he walked to the other side, he noticed Lance trying to come out of his hiding spot too early, which simply won't do for the plan, so Shiro quickly placed his hand on Lance’s head, enjoying the soft, almost baby-like locks to float through his fingers, before he roughly shoved Lance back into the chimney. He winced when he heard Lance’s soft 'ow' and turned to face the mirror again, reminding himself to apologize later.

He pretended to fix his tie as he watched a few of the visitors and guards head the opposite direction, not seeing him, which made it the perfect time for Shiro to duck into the chimney with Lance before a guard could spot him.

Shiro gave Lance an apologetic glance as he mouthed 'sorry' to the pouty lipped man across from him who was gingerly rubbing his backside. The loud hum of footsteps faded away, leaving a slight echo, letting Shiro know the guards and visitors were easily out of sight. He sneakily popped his head up, glancing around and seeing the coast was clear, he gathered Lance’s hand in his and gently pulled him out of the chimney, pass the velvet rope and towards the small closet.

Lance and Shiro hurried inside, Lance rushing in, only to run smack dab into the wall and bouncing back into Shiro’s waiting arms.

“You didn’t tell me how tiny our accommodations would be.” Lance groaned, feeling a bump make its way on his forehead. They hadn't even started their stakeout and already he had a sore ass and headache to boot. Shiro closed the door but left the crack for them later, as he began flicking on a miniature flashlight to peer around the room. It was a small enough closet under the stairs that was filled with storage stuff that had angle cuts following the repeated grooves of the stairs, making it bigger than it seemed. There was a small bookshelf with different cleaning tools and junk blocking part of the closet with the angle stair cuts, that could potentially hide a whole person or two behind it. Shiro stored that information away for later use as his flashlight beam and gaze travelled around the room to rest on Lance and trailed down towards his legs, showing how long they were and how they were cooped up and pressed against his in a small room like this. Lance huffed, making Shiro shine the flashlight near his face but put it away once he saw Lance’s annoyed expression. 

“Comfy?” Shiro asked as he squirmed to get comfortable. Lance hesitated.

“I didn’t realize we’d be so close like this.” Lance gulped. Shiro sighed, nodding his head.

“Well it is the height of tourist season, everything was booked up unfortunately. This was the best I could do.” Shiro explained, chuckling as Lance stuck out his tongue childishly at the remark. They began to hear footsteps and Shiro shushed them as he powered down the flashlight. He glanced behind himself again at the space, an idea coming to mind.

The guards filed in around the museum after locking it up tight. Every night they would swiftly check around the building, making sure no visitors were remaining after hours. Shiro and Lance could hear their footsteps echoing around the building, even hearing some of them go up the steps behind and above them. Lance held in his breath as he unconsciously leaned towards Shiro almost as if for protection as he squeezed his eyes shut. He caught his breath however as he heard one pair of footsteps circle around outside their hiding space. Shiro who had been holding his arm, squeezed it gently to be reassuring as they both waited with bated breath when the footsteps stopped outside the door.

                                                                                            **********

A guard was walking around checking the perimeter when he noticed the closet door under the stairs was slightly open. Pushing it closed he heard a weird sound and decided to investigate. He grumbled to himself as he grabbed the key hanging off its pegs, mumbling about dirty teenagers, always finding them trying to do it in the closet next to the hand soap, when he opened the door and peered inside.

Nope no one here.

With a grunt, the guard shut the door, remembering to lock it as he placed the key back on its hook and continued his inspection. Eventually he joined the other guards as they finished inspection and their footfalls faded away to nothing.

                                                                                             ***********

With everything quiet again, Shiro helped Lance make his way to the other side of the bookshelf where the door was, before he squeezed himself out from behind it as well. 

It wasn’t easy but he had managed to grab Lance and shove him behind the bookcase, accidentally falling on Lance’s lap in the process. Before Lance could protest, the guard had opened the door, making them pause as they held their breaths for what felt like hours but was only three seconds before the guards closed the door and locked it again. The good news was they weren’t caught. Bad news; they were trapped. 

“We’re locked in!” Lance sighed annoyed. Shiro groaned, stretching his shoulders from the tight squeeze as he stumbled from the hiding spot.

“It’ll be a challenge but it certainly makes things more interesting, I’ll admit.” He stated. Lance gazed around the suddenly very small closet and felt a slight wave of nausea and dizziness. He closed his eyes, breathing through his nose.

“I swear I’m going to pass out in a second.” He threatened.

“Don’t. There’s not enough space.” Shiro advised. Lance looked up at him, feeling something stir as he realized he was alone in a small dark closet with Shiro, the body of a god, pressed up against him for the whole night.

“So what do we do now?” Lance swallowed, glancing up at him from underneath his lashes. Shiro looked down, licking his lips as he decided to focus on anything that wasn’t the gorgeous man in front of him.

“Now we wait.” He replied grimly. It was gonna be a long night indeed.


	13. Step 1: Irritate the Guards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long night awaits them but it can't be so bad being pressed up against your crush and pissing off a few guards.

The museum was dark with all the lights having gone off after 9 pm officially. For the past few hours, Shiro had kept watch as Lance took a quick nap, blissfully unaware of the effect he was having on Shiro, with his light breathing and accidentally cuddling against the man. His face was relaxed and he seemed to be having a good dream by the looks of it, making Shiro smile as he pushed some of Lance’s bangs out of the way. 

The sudden sound of footsteps made Shiro pause and he quickly nudged Lance awake as the footfalls got heavier. They both stood up, Lance ready to make for behind the bookshelf but Shiro held on to Lance’s waist, planting them right there. Lance gave Shiro a sleepy but confused look as the footsteps echoing around the museum bounced around, even the ones going up the steps which Lance cringed, thinking how unaware the guards were about the stowaways in the closet.

The sound of a something clanking nearby startled Lance as he gripped onto Shiro’s jacket panicking, only for Shiro’s quiet shushing to calm him down. Whoever had been making that sound thudded heavily against the floor outside the closet, pausing slightly where the keys were. Lance bit his lip to prevent himself from breathing hard and being heard. More clanking and rattling sounds went on, Lance giving Shiro a confused glance who just shook his head in response.

Finally, the noises stopped and the guard sighed, sounding weary and irritated when Lance heard a soft popping sound, followed by a chugging noise. A sudden hiccup nearly made Lance jump and he turned to face Shiro, mouthing ‘hes drunk’, while jerking his thumb behind him towards the guard. Shiro merely smiled and nodded, Lance quietly laughing at how lucky they were as the guard went on his way afterwards, followed by the footsteps of the other guards till finally the museum was eerily silent once again.

Both Shiro and Lance sighed, tension leaving their bodies as they settled in again, Shiro flicking on the light and inspecting the time.

“Ten o’ clock exactly, making it exactly one hour since their last routine check. So now we have a grasp of their schedule which is good.” Shiro remarked.

“Yeah, but we’re still locked in, how do we get out of here?” Lance retorted. He moved out of the way, or he tried to, the space being so small, as Shiro began pulling out little gadgets here and there from the pockets of his jacket. He handed Lance a piece of chalk, ignoring the man's questioning looks as he took out his measuring tape and remembering his earlier measurements, measured the exact distance to retrieve the key. He prompted Lance to hand over the chalk, which Lance did so, still not understanding what Shiro was doing and watched as Shiro made a tiny mark on the wall opposite them.

Shiro placed the chalk back in his pocket, pulling out a super heavy duty magnet instead, quickly attaching the magnetic end to the thin wall. Lance watched as Shiro wiggled it around in concentration wondering what he was trying to do when he heard it. A soft, plinking noise was thumping on the other side of the wall. Lance at first panicked thinking it was someone coming, when Shiro nodded his head smiling.

“That’s our key out of here.” He whispered. Lance watched in awe as he heard the sound of the key moving along the walls, Shiro guiding it with the magnet being careful not to break the connection between the magnet from the wood. Lance peered around Shiro, watching as he bent towards the crack under the door, dropping the key to the floor and pulling it in the room with the magnet again.

“Yes!” Lance cheered quietly. He gave Shiro a thumbs up when Shiro handed him one of the magnets.

“Here take this, it’ll be a pain in the ass to remove if it touches my prosthetic.” Shiro mentioned. Lance pocketed the magnet, watching Shiro twist the key into the door lock, only to frown as they both realized it wasn’t working.

“I-it only opens from the outside..” Lance explained dismayed. Shiro shook his head disappointedly as he faced Lance halfway.

“I’m sorry Lance, looks like we’re stuck here all night till someone finds us.” Shiro stated, watching Lance sigh exhaustedly as he placed his head in his hands. Shiro placed a hand on his shoulder to comfort him, pulling something out of his jacket that extended along his sleeve.

“However…By strange coincidence, I just happen to have this.” Shiro pulled out a lengthy rope with a metal tip at the end. Lance looked up, catching Shiro’s eyes as he lightly swatted Shiro’s shoulders for messing with him. Lance watched amazed as Shiro fed the rope through the small keyhole, the metal tip going out first, while Shiro took his tie and pulled out a curved paper clip hiding along the seams of the fabric. It was bent into a hook, which Shiro used to retrieve the rope and pull it inside.

Shiro once again handed Lance the paper clip hook, as he took the key and screwed it into the metal tip. With that done, Shiro placed it back down, pushing it out from under the crack of the door and began pulling along the string. Lance crouched forward in excitement, forgetting he was all up on top of Shiro now, waiting for the distinct ‘thwack’ noise when the key hit the door. Shiro twisted the rope, turning the key every which way till it slid smoothly into the keyhole. Now pulling out a pair of pliers, Shiro gave the key a few more turns, shifting it, and soon the door opened with a dull pop. Lance gasped, surprised all that worked as Shiro turned to him, pride in his eyes. Lance gave him a pleased look.

“Holy crow, I can’t believe that worked! You’re amazing Shiro!” Lance stated. Shiro blushed a little from the praise but realized they still had work to do. Pulling on a pair of gloves, Shiro also took out a piece of tape as well as a handkerchief. He taped the lock down on the door, to prevent future lock ins from happening, as he quickly cleaned the areas of the room and the metal key with the handkerchief. When that was done, Shiro pulled on his gloves now that they weren't a hinderance, quickly tossing a pair to Lance as well.  

If there was any trace of their fingerprints, they were screwed.

With everything in check and Lance now sporting gloves as well, Shiro silently stepped out of the closet, into the dark museum. The only light that showed was from the lights outside the museum as well as the moon. Shiro glanced about the vast space, only briefly glancing at the Cellini till his eyes landed on the bag check in desk, eyeing the brown bag they’d carried in earlier.

Spying the guards door, Shiro hurried along, shoes softly clacking against the marble floor as he stealthily made his way towards the desk and grabbed the paper bag.

Lance was cleaning his space as well, getting rid of any fingerprints when he spotted Shiro’s heavy duty magnet. Idly, he wondered how powerful the thing was and turned to pick it up, glancing at the metal pipe in the small room, Lance stood far back as he could, inching slowly closer with the magnet till when he was about five inches away, the magnet leaped, jerking his hand to attach to the pipe. Lance’s eyes grew round realizing he was screwed as he began to try to remove it when he spotted Shiro coming in, having placed the closet key back on its hook.

Shiro looked at the pipe with his magnet stuck on it and back at Lance giving him a questioning look which Lance grinned back innocently.

“Having fun?“ Shiro asked, reaching for the magnet with his non metal hand and giving it a good tug, with Lance holding the pipe back.

“Always.” Lance teased back earning a light chuckle from Shiro as the two finally separated the pipe and magnet.

“Now that’s over, put these on and hurry. We got a statue to steal.” Shiro reminded him. Lance took the bag and edged to a corner where he could have a little space.

“A little low-key disappointed I didn’t actually find a frilly maid costume in here.” Lance sighed, mostly wanting to strike up a conversation and hopefully embarrass the burglar. It worked as Shiro blushed a deep scarlet, possibly picturing Lance in frilly petticoats and thigh highs when he shook his head and shoved the hat back at Lance.

“Only you would bring that up in a time like this. And what are you doing?” Shiro watched as Lance was beginning to slide his sweater off his head and unbutton his shirt. Lance blinked, pausing in his undressing to give Shiro an insolent look.

“I’m doing what you told me to do! Getting ready.” He pointed at the pile containing his costume, giving Shiro a stubborn glare while Shiro himself was trying to supress the urge to laugh and sigh.

“Lance, the costume goes over the clothes. Just unbutton your shirt collar here, then loosen the tie, and push the sleeves up..Yes that’ll work. You just need to roll up your pant legs and switch out the shoes, and you should be okay.” Shiro directed, pausing to help Lance into his costume. When Lance was dressed, he slipped off the fancy shoes for the old, messy slip on canvas shoes Shiro got and stood up to let Shiro examine him.

“Congratulations. You look terrible.” Shiro smiled as Lance frowned. Shiro plopped the hat onto Lance’s head, ignoring Lance’s irritable scowl.

“Can we steal that statue already? I hate to complain but I’m over this.” Lance griped, fixing the hat.

“Patience yields focus. Everything’s going according to plan.” Shiro explained. Lance looked at him hoping he’d explain a bit further.

“So how are we going to steal the Cellini big guy?” Lance asked curious. Shiro hummed at the nickname before he nodded his head towards the outside.

“Well, if you were a guard who had to sit here every night guarding a bunch of junk you didn’t care for or liked, how would you feel?”

“Irritable?” Lance answered uncertain to which Shiro nodded.

“Exactly. And we’ll draw them out by your brilliant plan.” Shiro noted, smirking at Lance’s dumbfounded expression. Just as Lance was about to ask what, Shiro pulled two long thin wooden boards from out of the sleeve of his jacket, earning an excited hiss from Lance, eyes sparkling.

“Yes! Oh yes! We’ll defeat them by pissing them off!” Lance cried, much to Shiro’s amusement.

“Using psychological warfare you mean. We’ll just use this to trigger the alarm as many times as it takes until they turn it off..hopefully.” Shiro explained more elaborately. He stepped out into the open again, instructing Lance to wait in the closet.

Shiro stepped past the velvet rope a little, eyeing the circuit beams around the Cellini. He had practiced on the Vendome Column earlier, but now he needed to be extra precise with his throws. The Cellini was much closer than the Column after all. Shiro gazed at the statue and circuits concentrating as he prepared his first throw. He quickly tossed the boomerang toy and knew right away it was a bad throw as it was too wide. The toy came circling back around, Shiro lunging to grab it and stumbling before he caught himself. Shiro steadied his breath this time, repeating his earlier mantra to himself, and threw the toy.

The boomerang circled through the air and just barely made contact with the circuits when the alarm bells started clanging and a siren began wailing interupting the peaceful quiet. The loud noises startled Shiro briefly who forgot to catch the toy till it barely soared past him. Shiro reached out and grabbed it before hurrying back to the closet with Lance, who was clutching his ears, squinting. As soon as Shiro closed the door, Lance pounced on Shiro, grabbing him, yelling about how scared he was that Shiro got caught or something which Shiro just whooped excitedly, eager to see if their plan worked. 


	14. A Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guards find nothing amiss and theres a confession.

The guards had been relaxing in the break-room, a few starting up a game of cards while a few others were eating dinner or sleeping. Just as the head guard was about to ask for any threes, a high pitched alarm went off, the bells clanging as the siren started wailing. Chaos erupted as the guards flew out into the museum, searching for any intruders. 

The head guard yelled out directions to his men, as they split up to cover the grounds. A trace of sweat broke out as he watched his men fly about, the noise waking up possibly the whole street.

                                                                                            ********

Back in the closet, Shiro clutched Lance tightly against him as he pulled their door shut with the same paperclip hook, to keep the door closed. They both waited as the alarm kept going off, hearing the sounds of the guards footsteps echo around the building. This was the moment they would undoubtedly be caught if a guard decided to check the closet by chance.

Shiro listened as the telltale heavyset footsteps came back, looking around franticly, from the sounds of it. A brief pause had him both holding his breath, stunned in silence while unconsciously pulling Lance closer but he relaxed somewhat when he heard the guard chugging what sounds like another drink. Shiro breathed a sigh of relief as the footsteps passed over the entrance to the closet, knowing they were safe for the moment.

                                                                                            ********

The head guard ground his teeth in frustration as he watched his men run around like confused mice. They were double checking over each other to make sure they didn’t miss anything.

Outside, the familiar sound of the police sirens were heard over the alarm surprisingly, and the head guard headed back to the break room, where the alarm was located. He pulled out a specially made key and quickly unlocked the five locks to access the combination lock. Once he opened that, he quickly got to work on the combination lock, setting the code quickly and releasing another door to the alarm mechanism. The head guard scowled as he pulled the lever, turning it off. It was finally silent. With a grunt, he made his way outside to the museum, watching guards and now policemen search from top to bottom.

He headed towards the center of the main room, standing next to the prized Cellini, with the chief of police meeting up as well as two of his own men. They both saluted as well as his guard who began speaking with a nod from the head guard.

“Everything is in order. Nothing is missing and one of the guards checked the system, it isn’t a shorted circuit or faulty wiring.” He stated. The head guard tsked and glared up at the offending device.

“Of course. A freaking burglar alarm designed to give me a heart attack.” He complained, grimacing when one of his slower guards burped right then. The drunken moron. He rolled his eyes and nodded to the chief.

“Sorry about this. Thank you for coming anyway.” The chief nodded solemnly and rounded up his own men to head out, blowing his whistle, as the police cleared out two by two.

As the police were leaving, the head guard entered the break-room to turn the alarm back on, when the phone rang. He sighed and answered, putting on his professional voice.

“Hello, Kleber-Lafayette Museum, Senior guard speaking.” He recited. His eyes bulged when he heard the other voice and merely grimaced.

“I apologize for the noise disturbing the Minister and madame minister.” He waited a few beats, his subordinates entering a few at a time and giving him confused looks, wondering who he was talking to.

“Yes, I know, its a very loud alarm…No sir we don’t know why it went off we checked everything and so did the police but-No sir, nothing is missing and the alarms are set again.” He rolled his eyes, listening to the complaints before he was finally allowed to hang up.

“I’m sorry sir. Good night sir.” And with that, he hung up briefly annoyed and turned to face his men.

“The prefecture of police. The alarm bells woke up the Minister of Interior.” He shook his head in disbelief. One of his guards, the same one who burped, merely smiled joyfully, like it was the best news.

“Good.” He stated, a quick glare in his direction had him turning away in embarrassment, not wanting to face his boss’s wrath. Instead he quickly shut off the lights as his boss continued to reset the alarm.

Everything was once again dark and quiet.

                                                                                            ********

Lance was practically a second skin against Shiro with how close he was. He could feel Shiro’s short breaths against his forehead, a small part of him wondering what the man's lips would feel like pressed there instead.

“I think we’re safe now.” Shiro whispered, turning on the dull flashlight as Lance moved away, leaning against one of the walls, hand to his heart.

“Holy crow, I was so scared. My heart’s still racing.” He stated. Shiro glanced around, double checking for any other outside noise before he responded.

“Well I’d call a doctor but I don’t think this closet gives good reception.” Shiro whispered, earning a light snort from Lance who was smirking playfully in response.

“I don’t think we can get a house call either. I doubt he’d fit in the closet.” Lance retorted back, earning a deep chuckle out of Shiro. They both paused briefly to steady their heartbeats, minds wandering back to what had just happened when Lance sighed sadly and shook his head.

“Honestly, I’m so scared. Not just for my family but for you as well.” He admitted, missing Shiro’s surprised expression.

“Me?”

"Yes! I shouldn’t have gotten you involved with this at all. It was my family’s issue, we should have to deal with the consequences. If you want to call this off Shiro, I don’t blame you at all. Thanks for helping me get this far.”  Lance looked up, eyes glistening with unspoken emotion and fear that Shiro found it impossible to look away from the deep ocean-like blues.

Yet it was almost impossible for him to say the next few words that came to mind but he knew now was the right time and place to confront Lance about it.

“Lance you don’t have to worry about me. However, your father is in alot of trouble and we should help him while we still have a chance, or have you forgotten about Professor Bauer?”

Lance’s eyes widened as he heard the familiar name. He gazed back at Shiro’s serious expression, mind going blank as he tried to recall how Shiro could have possibly known about Bauer’s test tomorrow.

Noticing the troubling frown the other wore, Shiro continued to speak, to fill in on Lance’s confusion.

“What happens tomorrow when he shows up and runs those tests on your ‘million-dollar Cellini’?” Shiro prompted and watched as Lance kept silent, still shocked and giving Shiro his answer right there.

“It’s a fake isn’t it?” Lance opened his mouth about to explain himself when Shiro placed his fingers over Lance’s mouth, cutting him off as Shiro began talking.

“I don’t need any long, begging stories right now Lance. I just want the truth, just nod your head yes or no.” Shiro asked, ignoring the warmth of Lance’s breath against his fingers, or trying to. Lance nodded his head yes, ashamed and defeated as he hung his head low while Shiro breathed amazed.

“Who carved it?” He asked curious which Lance refused to look back at him, choosing to hug himself instead.

“My abuela.” He answered.

“Who posed for it?” Shiro asked, watching Lance.

“My abuelo.” His answer seemed to appease Shiro who nodded understandably.

“That explains the likeness certainly.” Shiro gestured at Lance’s figure who blushed in response.

“You were the first to ever notice it actually.” Lance admitted.

“I can be very sensitive and perceptive about certain things.” Shiro smiled while Lance smirked knowingly.

“Oh really? Are there any other areas you’re particularly sensitive and perceptive in?” He winked, enjoying the flushed look on Shiro’s face as he coughed.

“So how long have you known about..him and..me?” Lance asked curious. Shiro pinched his brow, trying to think.

“I want to say..since the first time you asked me to steal it I considered it briefly. The more serious you became about stealing it, I knew right away something was amiss about the infamous Cellini. It wasn’t till I noticed your stunning resemblance next to the sculpture that I realized what it really was.” Shiro explained, leaning in closer to Lance’s burning face. Lance sputtered confused and also a bit agitated about all this. And he thought he was the sneakiest thief ever!

“Wha..but then..if you knew it was a fake, why did you help me steal it?” Lance cried out frustrated only to realize Shiro was leaning closer and closer towards him, making him press up against the wall, with Shiro against his chest.

“I don’t know honestly..but when I saw you sitting there that day at the table, I would've agreed to anything you asked me.” Shiro replied, his breath tickling Lance’s ear. Lance gazed at Shiro stunned as Shiro bent his head and kissed him on the lips. Lance felt himself stiffen at first but melted into the warmth and passion as two strong hands ran up and down his sides, playing with the collar of his shirt, while his hands, squeezed Shiro’s shoulders, wanting to pull him closer. With a gasp for air, they both pulled back slightly, lips swollen and red and lust in their eyes. Lance coughed as he cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry I-I didn’t quite catch that, could you explain it to me again?” Lance whispered cheekily, making Shiro chuckle as they pulled closer for round two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THEY KISS! NEXT COMES THE SEX! JK ITS NOT THAT KIND OF PARTY!
> 
> ....yet.


	15. Step 2: Make Out Repeatedly

Lance sighed as he stretched his arms above him. 

“Funny how roomy its suddenly become in here.” Lance yawned as a firm but gentle hand rested against the small of his back. He was now sitting in Shiro’s lap, after their previous make out session, which still left exciting tingles along his back and thighs. He glanced down at Shiro giving him a flirty smile which Shiro snorted before ducking his nose into Lance’s shoulder.

“It’s also time for the second round. I’ll be right back.” Shiro promised, giving Lance a quick kiss on the lips as he lightly exited out the door. Lance sighed, leaning against the wall, admiring the way Shiro’s lips felt against his and the way his hands held him so firmly but gently. Lance leaned against the doorway, wanting to watch Shiro and maybe eye his backside a little bit when the alarm rang out, making Lance jump in place until Shiro appeared by his side, ushering him into the tiny room, keeping him pulled close as he shut the door with his paperclip contraption, he made.

“How many times are we going to do this?” Lance asked quietly while Shiro leaned in to rest his head on Lance’s shoulder.

“As many times as it takes until they turn that damn alarm off.” Shiro whispered. The two waited patiently as they heard the familiar footsteps belonging to the guards as they went about checking the museum. Lance held his breath once again, trying to be quiet but found it hard to focus with Shiro’s fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. Lance squirmed, feeling a light blush pop up on his cheeks and sent a glare to Shiro who was smiling too innocently like he didn’t know what he was doing to the younger man. They heard voices then and both promptly straightened up and listened in on the muffled, furious tone of the head guard and a very disgruntled police chief it sounds like before all the footsteps echoed around until everything once again went silent. Shiro sighed, taking a deep breath before turning around and kissing Lance on the lips again.

“For luck.” Shiro explained smiling as he crept out the tiny storage room again with boomerang toy in hand. Lance leaned back waiting for the loud alarm as Shiro’s earlier words echoed in his mind, “As many times as it takes.”

**********

Hearing the alarm going off again, the senior guard slammed his fist onto the table, beyond furious. His men glanced around uneasily, wondering if whether the best thing to do was to even breathe around their angry boss.

“What are you doing standing around? Get going! Search the museum!” The guard exploded, waving his arms franticly as his men bolted, scurrying out of there as fast as they could. All except for one that is. One of his men, Carl, had been steadily drinking throughout the night and by now was obviously intoxicated to the point he thought it was rather funny the alarm was going off for the third time and his boss was as red as a tomato.

He gulped when he realized the expression on his boss’s face was anything but funny and sighed as he got up to go inspect his area of the museum before he got chewed out again.

With the last of his men out, the senior guard pinched his nose bridge, irritated beyond belief that the policemen would be coming back soon, even more infuriated as indicated by the chiefs sharp words he left him before he left. The senior guard squared up as he began turning the alarm system off again, preparing himself for the harsh words only as he was about to walk out, he received a phone call.

“Kleber-Lafayette, senior guard speaking.” He stated gruffly. His straightened up when he heard the chiefs voice on the other end.

“Well you see sir, I’m not sure if this is a ‘real emergency’ as you so state it. I haven’t checked with my men yet…” He trailed off unsure. At that moment two of his men came in and gave him tired, weary looks as they shook their heads no, indicating they found nothing amiss once again. The senior guard sighed annoyed as he recited all this to the chief who gave him sharp orders to find out whats going on before that damned racket drags them out there again and promptly hung up on the guard. The senior guard slammed the phone down irritated beyond relief and eyes the alarm system, a thought popping up which sounded amazing to the senior guard.

No he couldn’t turn the alarm off, what if something did happen? The senior guard shook his head and motioned to his men who were still waiting for orders to bring the rest back.

“Bring the rest of them back in. If it goes off again well, we’ll see what happens. I doubt the police will be any help to us the rest of the night.” The senior guard stated, sinking into a chair as he made one of the other guards turn the system back on, using the code he kept in his pocket.

**********

Shiro pressed against the door, listening closely as he heard the last footstep echo and everything fall silent again. Only he would be concentrating if Lance hadn’t decided now was a good time to press his lips to Shiro’s neck, sucking a little on the skin, making Shiro groan a little.

“Lance..nows really..not the time..for such..pleasures. We have a..ah, job to do remember?” Shiro pulled away despite Lance’s whine, giving Lance what he hoped was a stern look but turned into a chuckle instead when he saw Lance’s pout.

“I know, it’s just these things can be stressful and I figured you’d want to relax a little.” Lance lied. Just kidding, I mostly want to run my tongue over your muscles, Lance plotted. Shiro saw right through his plan however and deterred Lance’s grabby hands as he wound his arms around Lance’s torso, pulling him into his lap again and kissing him along his cheeks and temples.

“I think just sitting here and looking at you is enough for relaxing. Depending on the situation that is. Anyways, we have a little time to ourselves since it’s only twenty past eleven and in ten minutes that’s when I’ll need to trigger the alarm again.” Shiro explained. Lance ran his fingers through Shiro’s hair, nodding along. If someone had told him he’d be stealing his father’s fake sculpture from a high end, heavily guarded museum AND make out with a handsome man, he’d probably tell the person to quit whatever drugs they were on. 

“And what do we do after the alarm’s finally been turned off?” Lance asked when his ring finger accidentally touched Shiro’s neck, making the burglar jump in surprise and Lance yanking his hand away.

“Oh I’m sorry! I forgot I was wearing this.” Lance apologized, holding out his left hand. Shiro’s eyes widened when he saw the huge diamond and maybe also felt a little jealous too.

“I forgot as well. Um congratulations by the way.” He muttered, giving the ring a glare. Lance shrugged, not hearing Shiro’s forlornness in his voice as he inspected the ring in the little light they had from Shiro’s flashlight.

“So who’s groom am I kissing anyways?” Shiro asked curious and trying to hide the small resentment. Lance paused, appearing to think.

“Umm some American billionaire named Lotor. He’s not actually in love with me, he just wants the Cellini.” Lance stated bored and turned to pepper kisses along Shiro’s neck again with Shiro smiling lightly.

“Well he’s a lucky fellow certainly.” Shiro mused as his lips connected with Lance’s. He checked his watch again and his eyes comically bulged out when he saw the time.

“Uh oh, a little late with the alarm triggering. If this one doesn’t work, we’ll just have to keep doing this till it does. Don’t go away, I’ll be right back.” Lance nodded before puckering up and leaning forward when Shiro placed a finger against his lips, smirking.

“Just marking my place.” He stated amusedly as he got up, letting Lance untangle himself, as he stepped out to throw the boomerang toy. Lance quietly followed him out this time, wanting to see the whole action in process.

He crouched by one of the staircase pillars, watching as Shiro expertly threw the toy, letting it spin in a perfect circle around the statue, triggering the alarms immediately. Lance ducked and covered his ears wincing, the alarm was much louder out here than the slightly dulled noise he heard in the closet.

Shiro caught the toy in his hand, immediately ducking back into the closet, not noticing Lance standing by the pillar until he was back in the closet and noticed how suddenly more roomier it was than usual. Looking around in a panic, Shiro ducked outside again, quickly spotting Lance who seemed confused about what to do when Shiro wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him into the closet with Lance letting out a quiet eep!

They both fell into the closet, Lance landing on top of Shiro who groaned from the fall and added weight when he glanced up seeing Lance’s eyes focused on his and smiled, pulling him closer. With the door shut tightly, Shiro sat upright, pulling Lance back into his lap and leaned forward to continue from where he marked his place. The sirens grew duller as they both got lost in the world of the other, tongues brushing each other and hands exploring while the siren continued wailing and footsteps echoing all around them.


	16. Step 3: Cellini and More Waiting

The head guard stepped out hands on his hips as he glared up at the alarm, surrounded by his men, others ran off in different directions to check, although with less urgency as before. The head guard turned sharply upon hearing a giggling fit and faced the drunkard, Carl who kept laughing his wits off about another malfunction with the alarm. 

Carl stopped laughing however when he noticed his boss glaring him down and quickly shut up.

With that irritation done, the senior guard turned back to face the Cellini and ordered his men to continue to look around, all of them nodding before heading off to their positions. There was the distant hum of a few police cars and no the whole brigade like before. The senior guard nodded briskly as they filed in, most of them wearing expressions of weariness and frustration. They split up to look around while one headed up to the senior guard.

“The chief sends his regards, he wanted only two squad cars in case this wasn’t a real emergency like the other times.” He stated firmly, backing away slightly as the senior guard’s temper flared.

“Of course. Because what other emergencies are there in Paris other than running low on coffee and donuts.” He hissed and the two officers backed away immediately. The senior guard hurried of to the break room to turn the alarm off as he sighed and waited for the usual status report from his subordinates.

The telephone rang, surprising the guard and he walked over taking his time, thinking it was the minister again.

“Kleber-Lafayette Museum. Senior guard speaking.”He droned bored. When he heard the voice on the other end, he straightened up immediately, beads of sweat now pouring down his face.

“A-at your service, your presi-excellency!” He even bowed, confusing a few of the guards as they trailed back from their unsuccessful search.

“Y-yes sir I-I know it makes a terrible noise, excellency. It was designed for just that purpose.” He waited a beat nervously while a few guards enjoyed the spectacle of their superior.

“No-no your excellency! I didn’t install it…Yes sir I know its been the third-FOURTH time tonight, yes you’re right as always. I’ll rectify it right away your excellency! Good night!” The guard immediately hung up, slightly losing his grip on the phone as he did so, and shakily turned to the other guards, wondering who that could’ve been.

The senior guard took out his handkerchief, dabbing away some of the sweat that he was drenched in, as he turned to face the others.

“Now guess who we woke up.” He complained as he turned to the subject of everyones annoyance.

“That’s it! I’m going to turn it off!” He declared a few men cheering and some handing each other a couple francs as if they’d been betting the entire time.

The senior guard quickly opened the alarm contraption again and this time, turned the whole thing off. It was obvious it was some kind of issue with the alarm for it to go off like that and calling someone this late to inspect it would be a bad idea. They’d have to wait tomorrow. He probably should send someone to go stand watch...

The guard glanced around at his exhausted men, the lot of them weary and cranky from the running around and so many false alarms. Maybe he'll let them sit this out. After all who would be stupid enough to steal from the museum?

With peace at last, the guard sank back into his chair sighing as he leaned back, feet on the table while the others relaxed around him.

                                                                                              ************

Shiro was popping his head out after the noise died down to see if his plan had indeed worked. His eyes widened upon seeing the alarm censors dimmed, indicating the alarm was turned off. Shiro stepped back into the storage room where Lance was eagerly awaiting the news.

“Well?” He asked, putting a hand on Shiro’s arm. Shiro seemed dazed as he nodded his head towards the outside.

“It worked. It actually worked. They shut the lights off and everything..” He whispered. Lance scrunched his face confused in response.

“Well yeah? You expected it to work, didn’t you?”

“Y-yes?”

“Then pull yourself together Shiro, you’re a genius!” Lance silently cheered, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. Shiro smiled, wrapping an arm around Lance’s waist and pulled him in for another kiss.

"I can’t take all the credit. That boomerang was your idea and a brilliant one.” Shiro praised, giving Lance a quick peck in return. Lance blushed pulling away slightly.

“Okay so whats next?” He asked. Shiro immediately set to work, straightening up the area, making sure to leave no trace of them behind, wiping down every inch they touched and placing an old weathered cap on Lance’s face before grabbing all his stuff and opening the door.

“Now look, wait until the moment of maximum confusion, and then start scrubbing, like your scrubbing the floor, towards the guards room.” Shiro instructed. Lance nodded throughout the plan, indicating he understood until Shiro mentioned the guards room, where he looked up at the burglar, very confused.

“Guard’s room?” he cried, which Shiro nodded, grabbing his coat and slipping it on.

“Yep!” He smiled and began removing the tape from where he placed it over the lock of the door. Lance tugged on his sleeve to get his attention again as they slipped out into the quiet museum.

“Yes?” Shiro turned to him, smirking down at Lance’s pout.

“What about the guards? Won’t they be you know, surprised to see a cleaning dude in their area?” Lance inquired.

“Lance, when they notice the Cellini Venus is missing, there will be guards everywhere..except the guards room.” Shiro explained chuckling at Lance’s expression of realization.

As Lance stepped back, Shiro took his arm again, his eyes trailing up and down Lance’s form, earning a blush from the younger man.

“You look charming.” He complimented, kissing Lance on the lips who smirked in response.

“Don’t I always?” Lance grinned as Shiro chuckled and glanced around looking for something. Lance turned to look back at the storage room, remembering this as the first place he and Shiro kissed and cuddled, a memory he will definitely cherish.

Who knows maybe there might be a next time, he wondered smirking as Shiro closed the door, sealing that memory shut once and for all. 

Lance waited off to the side as Shiro tip-toed around towards the cleaning staff entrance, grabbing the red bucket that had been back there as well as the nearly empty wine bottle, the guard had been drinking from.

Shiro stealthily gave the bucket to Lance while keeping the bottle and began his trek across the room towards the Cellini, Lance waiting by the staircase pillar, holding his breath the entire time, expecting something to go wrong.

Shiro crossed over to the statuette, finding it more intimidating now that there wasn’t an alarm guarding it and scoffed to himself, thinking he was being ridiculous. He idly wondered why the guards didn’t just send one of their own out to guard the statuette, but Shiro berated himself saying now wasn’t the time and he quickly but carefully, grabbed the Cellini from its pedestal, halting as if waiting for another secret alarm to go off.

When all remained quiet, Shiro then grabbed the statuette’s display block and replaced it with the empty wine bottle in the exact position.

"A fitting touch actually.” Shiro chuckled to himself as he carefully maneuvered the sculpture back to Lance where he was waiting and helped him wrap the Cellini in Lance’s jacket from earlier, to ensure it wouldn’t break.

“You know, your abuela was pretty good.” Shiro admired the craftsmanship as he wrapped it up. Lance nodded as well, watching as Shiro got to the lower parts of the statue and blushed, looking away.

“I guess your abuelo too.” He said, which Lance rolled his eyes and punched him lightly in the arm.

“Okay so now you wait in the chimney and hold onto your bucket. The cleaning staff are coming in and once they’re out and about cleaning, you come out without drawing any attention to yourself and pretend you're cleaning. I want you to make your way over to the guard's room as you can and wait for everything to turn chaotic.” Shiro explained. Lance nodded, completely serious but as he turned to go hide, Shiro pulled him back slightly and planted a big kiss on Lance’s stunned lips.

“For good luck.” Shiro wished before letting go and heading off in the opposite direction while Lance headed over to the chimney and fireplace screen and tucked himself inside till he was completely hidden.

Lance tucked the long skirt around himself, hoping to stop his nervous shaking and wished he had his fidget cube with him to help wait out the time he had left till the cleaning staff got there. Lance began to think about Shiro and his wonderful lips which soothed some of the nervousness away and Lance eagerly hoped they would make it through phase two of the plan.

Hopefully nothing would go wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've started working on the sequel, I have a general outline and have finished chapters 1-3. I can't say that means I'll upload the rest of this fic because I generally like to have a decent amount of chapters finished before I finish the first project so I'll have a decent updating schedule as I go along. But I might drop some hints/teasers for the sequel as i go along. Possibly.


	17. Success!

Patience had never been one of Lance’s best qualities. He could be patient but usually he liked results and being in a fast paced environment helped him. Sitting in a dark museum, waiting for the cleaning staff to arrive who knows when, was driving Lance up the wall and to be honest, he was getting a little sleepy. 

Just as Lance yawned silently for the tenth time, stretching a little as he did so, the museum lights flickered on and Lance quickly held his breath, tucking himself further into the chimney as it allowed, fearing they had been caught. He quietly withdrew his breath though when he heard a door open and about thirty voices, mostly belonging to women, echo across the vast rooms chattering away.

Lance leaned slightly towards the opening, trying to see when he could duck out and blend in with the others when a pair of large, dirty feet walked right in front of him, making him draw back in surprise. The pair of feet set about cleaning the chimney as carefully and agonizingly slowly as they can while Lance waited with bated breath, hoping they’d move away soon. His wishes were granted when the feet moved and Lance took a risk and decided to barrel roll quickly out into the open and promptly ducked his head down, keeping his hand on his bucket as Shiro said.

Lance scrubbed the floor and baseboards as hard as he could, moving about an inch or two every few seconds to look like he was working. He caught a sparkle in the corner of his eye and noticed his ring was still on his finger and realized how suspicious it would look so he quickly took it off and stuck it in the bucket with the statue. he heard heavy footsteps walking by and hunched over his bucket more as a guard walked by. He was clutching his head tiredly and ruining the handwork of several cleaners who gave him looks of disdain.

The guard sat down on the steps leading up to the pedestal, now holding the wine bottle, as he took off his hat and rubbed his face with a groan.

“What a night we’ve had.” He grumbled to the people beside him.

“All night, one alarm after another. And telephone calls from everyone!” he griped. The woman and man both continued scrubbing not sure what to do until the guard tapped the closest one on their shoulder and gestured with his head towards the opposite wall.

“Guess who called from across the street.” He said, the woman leaned forward as he whispered to them and received shocked and sympathetic glances back.

Lance simply cleaned past them, trying to get closer to the room the guards were walking out of when a very large, obviously inebriated guard stumbled through, making Lance spin around towards the closest object he could ‘clean’ and pretended to scrub a velvet rope clean as he waited for the guard to leave. He grimaced to himself as he felt the guards eyes leering over his backside and was tempted to turn around and confront him when the guard chuckled and moved away finally. Lance sneakily watched as the guard walked past the Cellini but suddenly stopped in front of the empty pedestal, eyes growing wide. Lance watched as the guard complaining earlier got up and quickly went to his coworker’s side, angry.

“What are you doing, get back to your post!” He shouted. The man acted like he didn’t listen, causing the older guard to walk next to him and glare at him.

“Do not hesitate when given an order!” He shouted. Lance held his breath then as the other guard finally turned to him and pointed with a shaky finger to the bottle where the Cellini had been. Lance watched as the other guard, he guessed to be the senior guard glanced at the pedestal and then do a double take, his eyes widening as well.

The guard began making indecipherable noises, a few grunts and whines thrown in as he shook his head in disbelief. Lance continued to scrub his way towards the guards room, carefully watching the two guards, the head guard now pointing and freaking out.

“Alarm!” he called out, several heads turning towards the fiasco except Lance who just ducked behind his bucket for cover.

The head guard began running around, grabbing anyone within sight, and shouting to turn the alarm on. He idly watched as the man ran into the room he was trying to get to, hearing him shout in the distance “Alarms! Robbers! Go! Go!”.

Lance watched, a little amused at the sight of several guards running about, some slipping on the wet floors and crashing into each other. it was even a little funny once the head guard rushed out, sweating buckets and tripping over his feet as he stood there with a few men who looked confused about what to do.

Lance held his breath watching as the last of the guards trickled out and eyed the open door to his escape. Just as he was about to make a break for it, two guards rushed past making Lance nearly fall over as he sat inside the bucket, hiding the Cellini and also getting himself stuck. He grumbled about stupid guards to himself as he tried to wiggle his way out of the bucket when the head guard spoke up again.

“Search the cleaning staff! Immediately!” he bellowed with only a few objections from the cleaning staff themselves. Lance eyed the open door and made his way over to it, cleaning here and there, hoping he wasn’t drawing any attention to himself when he finally ducked behind the door and into the quiet hallway.

Once safely behind the door and out of sight, Lance crawled his way to the door on his right, guessing that to be the guard's break-room with his bucket trailing behind him. He opened the door slightly, peeking in and decided the coast was clear. Just as he was wondering where Shiro could be, he caught the eye of a guard sitting at the table. There was a brief second of them meeting eyes and staring until Lance backed out, trying to escape but the guard was much faster. Lance cried out but a hand was shoved over his mouth as strong arms encircled his waist, dragging him into the room. Lance kicked and screamed, his voice coming out muffled, when the guard holding him shoved him against the wall and promptly kissed him hard. Lance tried to shove him off and opened his eyes to glare down his attacker, when he noticed a white forelock of hair peaking out from under a guards cap and a scar across the man’s nose.

Lance’s complaints melted into sighs after that, his hitting stopped and arms now wrapped around Shiro’s neck, pulling him closer. The two continued exchanging kisses until Shiro pulled back and gazed down at Lance.

Suddenly the alarm went off, the sirens wailing and Shiro with a laugh, pulled Lance over to a door that led to a staircase that went up and down, same as what he came across their first inspection of the museum.

Shiro took Lance’s hand and with a quick check to make sure they had the Venus, he led Lance down the stairs to an entrance outside. Opening the door to an alleyway, Shiro glanced around to make sure no one was lingering outside and with the coast clear, Shiro took off running, with Lance in tow, the both of them laughing victoriously as they fled into the night.

 


	18. Mourning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The heist was successful! Now what?

The next day, Fernando stood in front of the empty wall space that once held the Cellini Venus. He stood back proudly as multiple cameras and flash photographers captured his likeness. Several reporters began firing off questions, Fernando chuckling as he shook his head and held his hands up placatingly.

“Please, please one at a time, I will try to answer all your questions.” He replied. He pointed at the reporter in front of him, which the reporter held up his microphone immediately and fired off his question.

“Can you give us a brief history of the Cellini Venus Mr. Ramirez-McClain?”

“Well I-”

“Monsieur, have the police reported any progress yet?”

“I-”

“Did you actually turn down a million dollars for it?”

“Wha-”

“How did you learn about the robbery sir?”

“Now wait a moment, wait a moment. I said one question please! To start with this man's, I woke up in the night with a sudden premonition, feeling ghastly. At first, I thought it was something I’d eaten, but no! Monsieur Sendak, the director of the museum, phoned me and had told me what happened. He’s on his way here now I believe.” Fernando shook his head as if it troubled him to remember.

“Are you offering a reward for the return of the Cellini Venus?” Fernando’s eyes bulged out of his head as he quickly turned to the reporter.

“No!! Oh uh I mean uh..What I mean to say is it seems commercial to think of money at a time like this.” Fernando responded, even placing his hand over his eyes to act it up a bit and several cameras went off, capturing him in position. He sneakily smirked to himself, feeling elated despite himself.

He was in the clear.

                                                                                          ***********

Lotor paced in the man’s, known as Coran apparently, office. He had been so close to obtaining that Cellini..and a husband now that he thought about it. 

“When I heard the news, I came over as quickly as possible! I still can’t believe it, to pull off a heist like that, its fantastic!” Lotor turned to Coran, eyes sparkling with mischief and wonder. Coran raised an eyebrow in wonder before shaking him off.

“Apparently, the police are investigating already.” He waved the younger man away, turning to his paperwork.

“The police? Sir, where is your spirit? A valuable artwork that strikes each person with a sense of passion and awe is being handled by the police? How sad.” Lotor pitied.

“If we wait for the police, the Cellini will be well on its way out of the country! I’ll never set eyes on it again!” Lotor complained when Coran continued to ignore him.

Lotor gained an idea and quickly leaned over the desk, halting Coran from his paperwork as he gazed suspiciously into the older mans eyes.

“Monsieur whatever your name was, I wasn’t listening to be honest. I am still very much interested in the Cellini Venus..hot or cold if you know what I’m saying.” Lotor winked, smiling like a snake. Coran blinked surprised before he put down his pen and gazed at the younger man sternly.

“Lotor, do you realize what you’re saying? You’re aiding a felony, offering to become a receiver in stolen goods.” Coran pointed out. Lotor growled lunging away and continuing pacing.

“I’m an art lover! As a public service, I want to make an independent inquiry to _help_ the police. Is that a crime?” He asked practically whining and whirled around to confront Coran who gave him a questioning look.

“And if you find the Cellini before the police?” Coran asked curious. Lotor waved his hand dismissive.

“You let me worry about that.” Coran sighed before standing up, locking his hands behind his back.

“No.” He stated simply. Lotor raised his eyebrows in disbeleif.

“No?”

“No. I’m an art dealer. Not a fence or hurdle of some sort Lotor.” Cpran explained gesturing to the door.

“Look I’ll do this entirely on my own, I just need a name of someone who can help me. A contact number by any chance?” Lotor begged.

“Lotor.” Coran scolded. His eyes hardened and giving Lotor a cross look, making Lotor back up a little.

“Fine. Alright, alright.” He muttered, about to leave before he was pulled back by an arm. 

“Wait…There happens to be a man in Paris now who knows about this sort of stuff. Perhaps he could help you..” Coran offered. What Lotor didn’t know was that his contact also happened to work with the police.

“Yes! Now we’re getting somewhere.” Lotor snapped his fingers in delight, looking for a pen and paper.

“Wait, Lotor please. At least think about what you’re trying to do. I heard you were courting the Ramierz-McClain’s son, Lance. What about him?” Coran pleaded. Lotor grumbled sitting down in one of the chairs.

“Oh I want them both! I want Lance and the Venus!” He griped.

“Lotor, remember I sold you your first painting. I made you a collector. Haggar thought it would help you relax!” Coran explained. Lotor began gripping the paper in his hands so tight, becoming frustrated with everything.

“Well it’s great. I’ve never been so relaxed in all my life!!” He yelled, tearing the paper into shreds. Coran just blinked back before sighing.

“Yes, yes I can see that.” He mumbled, watching as Lotor took a few deep breaths.

“Give me the name, the name!” Lotor demanded.

“Alright geez, don’t get your underdacks in a twist alright?” Coran held up his hands placatingly and began telling Lotor the contacts name and how he could be reached.

                                                                                                ***********

“Black Lion calling Blue Lion. Our telephone may be tapped so we’ll conduct this entire conversation in reverse pig latin.” Lance giggled which may have been the correct response as Shiro became serious as he gently asked “How are you? Did you sleep well?”

“Shiro, is it bad I slept wonderfully last night? And this morning at breakfast, I nearly ate the whole table!” Shiro laughed, picturing a hungry Lance devouring anything set in front of him.

“Must be your now tainted blood. You’ve committed the ultimate crime, so now nothing satisfies your taste but the adrenaline.” Shiro whispered conspiratorially and ruined it by giggling at Lance’s snort.

“Shiro, I’m the dramatic one here. Those are my lines. How are the ‘goods’ anyway?” Lance inquired.

“Who?” Shiro asked, confused.

“You know the Cellini! Boy for a burglar, you’re terrible at the lingo.” Lance pointed out joking. Shiro frowned slightly, wondering if he should tell Lance then but decided this news deserved to be face to face.

“Oh him! He’s fine. I’ve got him all wrapped up in one of my old shirts as snug as he can be.” Shiro pulled out said goods and held the Cellini, which was as he mentioned wrapped up in a loose shirt, cradled in one of Shiro’s arms.

“Rocked him to sleep and everything. Hmm..its the first time I ever did that with a grandfather.” Shiro stated. Lance scoffed, shaking his head and heard a loud wailing from downstairs.

“Oh I believe the director of the Museum is over now. I can hear him crying all the way up to my room…Unless its Papa being over dramatic again.” Lance rolled his eyes, thinking about how his father made a spectacle of himself in front of the cameras earlier, from what he witnessed on the staircase.

“What’s your father doing now? Talking to Sendak?” Shiro asked.

“Yeah, they’re having a ‘funeral’ for the lost Cellini. Papa’s wearing a black veil and everything.” Lance described. Even recounting how earlier before the reporters showed up, his Papa had put up a big black bow over the space where the Cellini used to be for an added touch of mournfulness.

“Shiro, do you think we should be seen together?”

“Of course, theres nothing suspicious about the son of a renowned art collector seeking comfort from a friend after his family's prized possession was stolen mysteriously. Besides I need to see you anyways. My place?” Shiro offered.

“Alright and I’ll see you at the Ritz Bar. I may be engaged but in just a few hours I’ll be single again. And I can’t be in my suitor’s bedrooms, think of how scandalous that will be!” Lance swooned, landing against the pillows, laughing as Shiro scoffed in the background.

“Then what we did last night could be scandalous for different reasons. I’ll see you in an hour.” Shiro promised and they both hung up. Lance sighed hugging one of the pillows to his chest, remembering the adrenaline rushed evening they had filled with stolen kisses and statuettes. It was still hard to believe they had gotten away with it! 

                                                                                                  ***********

Fernando patted Sendak’s back as he escorted him out of his home, already done pretending to mourn his sculpture. Although in a way he was sad it was gone, as his mother made that herself, you don’t throw away something as priceless as that!

He tuned back in to Sendak’s mutterings, hoping he didn’t look too rude for not paying attention.

“Oh I’m sorry Monsieur, can you repeat that, lately I’ve been blanking out ever since..” He trailed off. Sendak nodded understandably.

“Of course not Monsieur! Your pain is justified and understandable. I was saying that the Cellini Venus was not insured so-”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute. I recall signing something for insurance.” Fernando reminded, smirking quietly to himself for selling it. Sendak groaned, resting his head in his hands again.

“But the policy was not yet in force! Not until the technical examination had been done.”

“Oh! Yes, the technical examination hmm.” Fernando nodded his head. The two men stood in grieving silence before Fernando clapped his hands together.

“Well a million more, a million less! I believe my father did buy it at a bargain price..” Fernando offered, Sendak popping his head up and holding Fernando’s hands in glee.

“My dear Monsieur, you are a star among us.” Sendak leaned down and placed a delicate kiss on Fernando’s forehead, making him shudder in revulsion as he stepped back afterwards.

“I only wish I could express my feelings more..” Sendak stated. Fernando seemed to be thinking of something else, a sly grin popping up on his face.

“Professor Bauer will probably be very disappointed.” He stated, smirking at the thought.

“Yes and I must meet him now. Explain everything to him that happened.” Sendak grimaced at the idea.

“Well give him my kind regards! Off you go, don’t wanna be late!” Fernando gently nudging Sendak to the door as he spoke. He gestured to Marcel who nodded and swiftly left to hail Sendak’s driver as Fernando kept talking.

“But do cheer up my good amigo! It’s not the end of the world, you know.” He chuckled, watching as Sendak left forlorn and marcel shut the door. He was finally in peace.

“Ha!” He laughed, spinning towards the stairs, he had some celebrating to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only two chapters left to go! I've started on a rough outline for the sequel, it probably won't be uploaded for a while even after this is finished, but I'll do my best as I have a bunch of other au ideas in my head. Anybody interested in a Shance Rear Window au???


	19. Celebrating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance celebrates his big heist. Lotor makes a deal and Shiro reveals a secret to Lance.

“Lance!” Fernando yelped in joy rushing towards the staircase.

“Papa!” Lance responded, just as gleefully. Fernando gestured to Marcel franticly.

“Marcel, champagne! Lance!” He shouted, laughing. Nothing could stop his good mood.

“Papa!” Lance came running down the stairs, even taking them two at a time to rush into his father’s loving embrace.

“We’re saved Papa! We’re saved!” Lance flung his arms around his father who held him similarly, squeezing him in return.

“Oh mi hijo, thank heavens for the criminal elite!” He raved, joyous.

“I’m so happy! Papa you don’t have to go to jail and I don’t have to go to America!” Lance exclaimed. His father’s eyes shot open as he began nodding his head.

“This is a joyous occasion indeed! We must celebrate! Marcel, take the champagne, to the library, we’ll have a big lunch, all your favorites mi hijo! And then later tonight, fireworks, cocktails, and a magnificent dinner.” Fernando waved his arms about, excitedly. Lance smiled back at his happy, carefree father and almost hated to ruin his good mood but he had to tell him at some point. 

“Papa it sounds great but maybe not tonight? You might want to keep a low profile, in case the police suspect something. I have a very important appointment at the Ritz but I’ll be right back. I promise.” Lance offered, hugging his father close again. Fernando patted his son’s back, hugging him once again.

“Of course mi hijo. We shall celebrate on the down-low as you children say. We’ll just have the fireworks tonight and cocktails at home! I’ll start by myself right now!” Fernando announced and marched of towards the library, Lance giggling as he made his way up the stairs to get dressed.

Fernando walked towards the library smiling but paused in the doorway as he realized something.

“The Ritz..again?” He questioned, curious as he glanced back towards the staircase.

                                                                                              *********

Shiro calmly smoked a cigarette, staring at the person across from him eyeing him up and down. There was light piano music filtering through the air, with the waiters dressed to the nines, handing out cocktails, reminding Shiro of some Agent 007 movie.

Glancing down at his own scotch, Shiro took a quick sip before gazing back at his guest, hoping he was coming across as badass and stern as he felt in this moment.

The man across from him, named Lotor sat waiting impatiently as he fidgeted under Shiro’s probing stare. Shiro couldn’t help it, this was the man currently engaged to Lance Ramirez-McClain, which hopefully Shiro could talk Lotor out of it.

“You realize what you’re asking of me is very difficult and dangerous.” Shiro said simply, lifting his brow a little as he gazed unflinchingly back at Lotor’s stern gaze.

“Yes I know that, why do you think I’m not doing it myself? Listen Shirogane-”

“Please, no names. There could be others listening.” Lotor nodded, accepting this.

“Alright fine. I need your help, you’re the only one who can.” Lotor begged slightly. Shiro took a cool puff of a smoke before answering back, blowing a little in Lotor’s face as he did so.

“I have a few contacts in mind. Put out a few inquiries, some feelers. Just testing the waters..”

“You have a lead?!” Lotor asked surprised and scooted closer to Shiro, who scooted an inch away.

“It’s too early for anything concrete. Let’s just say I know who may have been involved.”

“Is what we’re discussing still in France by any chance?” Lotor demanded. Shiro nodded his head.

“I believe so. I think I can confidently say what you’re looking for, is still in France.”

Shiro motioned for Lotor to lean in closer, who did so while Shiro lowered his voice more for affect.

“You realize, you’d be paying a great deal of money for something you can’t ever display, never exhibit, not even in your own house?” Lotor nodded franticly.

“Yes, I know. I want it. I need it.” He stated desperately.

“I just want to take it out of the vault, every now and then and hold it to look at it. Know that its finally mine, that I own it. I can touch it anytime I please.” Lotor described. Shiro nodded along. Yep this guy was a little out there, he decided.

“One more thing. Do you happen to know any of the members of the family? The Ramirez-McClain family?” He asked serious.

“Well I’ve sort of met Fernando Ramirez-McClain. His son too, as a matter of fact, I’m going to see him tonight, if you know what I mean.” Lotor chuckled, smirking. Shiro frowned as he shook his head.

“No I don't..and you can't, it’s a bad idea. You need to drop him. Don’t see him ,don’t visit him, don’t even telephone Lance. That’s important. Any contact with the family could be fatal. The criminals could spot it and think it was all a trap.” Shiro instructed. Lotor huffed turning away, a moody pout making its way on his lips. Shiro looked on in disgust, deciding Lance’s pouts were way cuter.

“But we’re engaged.” Lotor whined, actually whined despite that fact he was an adult in his late twenties.

Shiro blinked, completely done with this overgrown child with Legolas hair but decided to humor him just in case.

“You’re very lucky you know. I hear he’s a charming man…Ah what the hell, the world’s full of statues like the Venus..”

“No! No, listen…I’ll do anything you say. I give you my word.” Lotor swore. Shiro gazed him up and down to be sure before nodding his head.

“Ok. I’ll call you later in the day. Just sit tight. Wait for the call.” Shiro stated ominously with Lotor nodding his head.

“Wait for the call. Right, right.” And after another brief pause, Shiro gestured for Lotor to leave, who did so in a heartbeat. 

Shiro watched, holding back a grin as Lotor searched the area, looking around for any potential snoops who may have overheard. He walked out of the restaurant only to turn and begin panicking as he searched for somewhere to hide, it looked like.

Confused, Shiro sat up watching the spectacle as well as a few other confused patrons who watched the man flee back and forth till he hopped into the little bar across the way and make his way inside. Shiro blinked, amazed at Lotor’s behavior until he spotted a familiar figure walking towards the two rooms and he gave a hearty laugh ignoring the looks of bewilderment thrown his way. He watched as Lance walked up the the bar doors peeking inside, with a confused expression on his face.

Shiro gazed interested, as Lance pulled out a small little blue box and take a deep breath. Lance yanked the doors open, easily spotting Lotor trying to hide himself by the bar. Lance tapped on Lotor’s shoulder, mouth moving already only for Lotor to jump back as if he saw a ghost.

Immediately, Lotor began shouting and running off, Lance only following him in mild confusion, while holding out the ring box. Shiro watched Lance chase Lotor around for a few brief seconds, trying to give away the ring box, till finally Lance got the hint and paused as Lotor used the moment to escape, much to Shiro’s amusement. Lance stood outside the restaurant confused out of his mind until he looked in and met Shiro’s steady gaze.

Shiro flagged down a waiter, asking for another scotch neat, as Lance walked towards his table in a daze.

Shiro stood up saying a quick hello as Lance approached, merely greeting Shiro with a light kiss on the corner of his mouth before they both began to sit down.

Just as the waiter brought over a scotch neat, which Shiro handed to Lance. Lance wrapped his fingers around it but didn’t seem interested in taking a drink at all.

“Do I look alright?” Lance suddenly asked, giving Shiro a calculating gaze. Shiro nodded, his eyes mostly straying to Lance’s face, in particular his lips.

“You look fine as always, why?” He asked, pretending to be clueless. Lance blinked unsure before he gestured towards the hallway outside the restaurant.

“Well I just met with Lotor outside, to give him back his ring, but he treated me like I was some sort of ghost from his past or something.” Lance explained bewildered. Lance pulled the ring box back out of his pocket to show Shiro who took it to look at it.

“Oh really? Well here, have a drink, its good for morale.” Shiro said, sliding Lance’s drink towards him. Lance was about to drink when he had a sudden idea and turned to Shiro, eyes sparkling with excitement.

“We should order some champagne! To celebrate!” Shiro smiled back but it dipped into a frown when Lance seemed to deflate.

“Well never mind, it would probably be bad luck or immoral to celebrate committing a crime. Wouldn’t it? I don’t know, you handle this, its too confusing.” Lance waved his hand dismissive and took a huge sip while Shiro just eyed him up and down.

 “I say..we celebrate. To success..and new beginnings.” Shiro stated, earning a small smile from Lance. Shiro flagged down the nearest waiter again and asked for a bottle of their most expensive champagne much to Lance’s surprise. 

“Are you sure Shiro? It’s very expensive champagne! Besides, is this really worth it when you basically got nothing out of the deal?” Lance inquired. Shiro leaned forward, pressing his lips against Lance’s, earning a small moan from the younger when he pulled back to gaze deeply into the other's eyes.

“I’d say I got you out of the deal. Wasn’t planning on it but it happened and I couldn’t be more happier honestly. Besides when do you get to celebrate pulling off the biggest crime of the century?” Shiro asked with Lance leaning forward more to whisper.

“Did you see all the papers and what they’re saying about it? Biggest crime of the century! And we did it! Well I admit you were the brains and the brawn while I, with my good looks and brains as well. We worked great together, considering it was our first job!” Lance exclaimed, getting excited again. Shiro lightly shushed him, looking around hoping nobody was listening with Lance blushing embarrassedly and looking a bit sheepish when he gazed back at Shiro.

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t be bragging about it so much, after all you’re used to this but this was my first burglary!”

“Mine too.”

“Pulling it off the way we..did.” Lance slowed down, eyeing Shiro with confusion as Shiro bit his lip, looking away from Lance.

“Shiro what?” Lance asked, feeling light headed all of a sudden as everything started repeating from earlier and none if it made any sense. Shiro sighed, knowing now was the time to come clean as he faced Lance with the utmost serious expression Lance had seen on him.

“This was my first burglary as well.” He repeated, watching Lance’s expression go from confusion to shock and then denial as he shook his head, trying to process.

“I-I don’t understand.” Lance replied, feeling sweat creep onto the back of his neck. He glanced at Shiro who still looked serious and little upset and he felt like he didn’t know who this man before him was anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter left!


	20. The Final Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro tells Lance the truth, will it ruin their new relationship? Also what happens to the Cellini? Why am I asking so many questions? Why are you even still reading this? Go read the story, and enjoy!!

“Then what were you doing in our house that night with the Van Gogh?” Lance demanded. All their previous interactions caught up to Lance and suddenly he was wondering how much of it was a lie, or if it all was a lie, which would just break his heart honestly. 

“You sure you want to know?” Shiro asked uncertain, seeing the flash of emotions changing on Lance’s face.

“Yes I want to know! Who the hell are you then? Is Takashi Shirogane even your real name? Or is that fake too?” Lance spat. He swiftly took a long sip of his drink, no longer in the mood for celebrating anymore.

“Lance, that is my real name. I’m Takashi Shirogane, a private detective, specializing in stolen works of art and in tracing, detecting, and exposing forgeries.” Lance gasped and automatically flinched away, about to make a break for it when Shiro grabbed his arm, holding him in place.

“I’m also an authority on museum security, being a special consultant to principal museums in London, New York, Chicago, Madrid, Tokyo, and Paris. I have degrees in art history and chemistry, and the London University diploma with distinction in advanced criminology.” Shiro finished, gazing at Lance like he was the only person in the entire room right then. Lance glanced away still confused and unsure about everything. Shiro’s grip had turned soft, gentle, his thumb idly rubbing along his forearm as if trying to ease the heavy emotions he was feeling. He finally glanced back at Shiro, locking gazes with him, meeting his steel grey eyes that had him feeling weak-kneed upon first sight.

“So..you’re all of that?” Lance breathed, taking calm collected breaths to steady himself while Shiro nodded.

“And you’re not a burglar?” Lance asked narrowing his eyes to be sure. Shiro shook his head.

“That night you found me in your home, I was sent on a mission to get info about your father making forgeries. I was chipping off a piece of the paint from the Van Gogh to test it when you appeared in your undies, with a loaded gun and shot me in the arm. I wasn’t trying to steal it.” Shiro reached out with both hands to keep Lance seated still as a waiter approached with their champagne they had requested, both gazing at the other as they waited for the man to leave.

However, before they could continue their conversation, Shiro glanced up and noticed a familiar silhouette and nudged Lance’s arm.

Lance turned to see what caught Shiro’s attention and gasped, seeing his father striding up to them in one of his best suits, smiling a little.

“Papa?!” Lance cried out, glancing between him and Shiro nervously.

“Please bring another glass?” His father asked the waiter, the man nodding before heading off as Fernando stood by the booth next to Lance.

“I don’t believe we’ve met. Fernando Ramirez-McClain. May I please join you?” Fernando stated as he held out his hand for a handshake, Shiro reciprocating.

“Takashi Shirogane. Please do.” He smiled, all trace of seriousness gone. Fernando slid into the booth, seating himself next to his son. Lance gulped glancing between the two men and tried to salvage what he could of this sudden meeting.

“Uh-Papa, this is a friend of mine. He’s uh-uh- Well he was just telling me-”

“Yes, yes I know. Grey eyes, tall, quite good-looking. A terrible man indeed.” He joked, enjoying his sons embarrassment as he tried to hide the flush on his face. Shiro faced them with a look of confusion until Fernando faced him, done with his chuckling.

“Now I believe we have some interests in common.” He started, eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. Lance faced him, biting his lip wondering if he should warn his father about Shiro when Shiro spoke up.

“You have two gorgeous men in your family, Mr. Ramirez-McClain.” Shiro smiled, enjoying the look of pure confusion that crossed the older mans face.

“Uh two?” he asked hesitant. Shiro nodded.

“The other is upstairs wrapped in a shirt in my room.” Shiro pointed, smiling when the look of realization crossed Fernando’s face.

“Ahh..and which may I ask, do you intend to keep?” He asked as a waiter brought his glass. Shiro smiled taking the bottle and pouring Fernando a drink.

“The real one. If he wishes me too.” Shiro glanced over at Lance, looking slightly shy a bit which Lance sighed.

“Maybe…You owe me a nice dinner for all the lying though! Then I’d be open to the idea.” Lance mentioned trying to appear nonchalant which Shiro chuckled nodding his head in agreement.

“A wise decision. And the other?” Fernando asked curious which Shiro knocked back his glass of champagne before answering.

“I have plans for him too. I think you’ll be pleased.” Shiro stated, Fernando glanced Shiro over, interest sparkling in his eyes.

“Oh really?” he mused. Shiro nodded.

“Yes and as a matter of fact, I have to go tend to him right now. So if you’ll both excuse me.” And with that, Shiro abruptly left the table, ignoring Lance’s protests as he hurried out.

“Well what an extraordinary man. Is he always this abrupt?” Fernando asked, turning to face his son who gazed after the man who just left.

“Well he wasn’t back in the closet.” Lance answered, not hearing Fernando’s startled choke as champagne flew out of his nose. Lance glanced down to the small ring box in his hand, thinking back on how strange Lotor was acting.

With one last sigh, Lance opened the box only to let out a loud brief yelp when he realized the box was empty. Other patrons and a few waiters who heard his outburst paused, glancing at their table, making Fernando chuckle and smile, waving them away while giving his son a confused glance.

*********

The next day...

At the airport, a private package was being carried by two men, with the words ‘fragile’ written hastily all over it.One of the men, being Shiro looked around to keep up the act, making sure no one was watching as he allowed the other man, Lotor to hold the thing in his hands entirely. They paused at the opening to Lotor’s private jet, Shiro wanting to relay a message to him before he boarded the plan.

As the plane engines roared, preparing for the lift off, Shiro tapped Lotor’s arm, indicating the key to the box, which Lotor grabbed needy, nodding his head understanding.

“This is the key!” Shiro shouted, both men finding it hard to hear. Lotor nodded his head.

“You’ve done a wonderful job! You sure you don’t want any money?” Lotor asked, opening his coat like he had a wad of cash hidden there, which he probably did. Shiro shook his head.

“No! Consider this a gift! You will be contacted at some point but don’t worry if its not in the near future! The code word will be..togetherness!” Shiro shouted again. Lotor nodded his head eagerly.

“Togetherness! Got it!” Lotor shook Shiro’s hand.

“Safe landings!” Shiro smiled as Lotor shook his hand, incredibly excited.

“The same to you! Togetherness! Haha!” And with that the two separated, Lotor heading into his jet, refusing any assistance from the flight attendant while Shiro ran back to his car, hopping inside and watching the plan get ready for takeoff.

Lotor ignored all his assistants and accountants in the plane as he moved himself to the small bathroom in the back.

“Move.” he ordered one person as he shoved them out of the way so he could access it first and promptly locked the door afterwards. With a delighted giggle, Lotor opened the box with said key and hummed with pleasure at seeing the covered statue. He opened the sheet to reveal the very artwork that had been haunting his dreams since he laid eyes on it. The Venus stood in all his glory except for a shiny little object tied in a ribbon around it. Lotor confused, pulled it off and inspected the object, finding it to be a diamond ring, the very same one he gave to Lance as an engagement ring. Lotor furrowed his brow, confused but pocketed the ring, choosing to ogle over his private art piece instead.

*********

2 days later…

“My dear boy what a coup!” Fernando exclaimed laughing. Shiro smiled as he walked beside Fernando towards the lounge.

“He’s the only collector who wouldn’t ever have it tested! Haha!” He cackled with Shiro smiling and chuckling a little at the humor of it all.

“Now how much did you say he was paying for it?” Fernando asked, stroking his beard, thinking about the thousands of dollars for the fake Cellini, or even millions, a lunatic billionaire like Lotor would pay for it. Shiro chuckled without humor as he turned towards Fernando, smirking.

“I didn’t say, ‘Papa’.” Shiro muttered, knowing where this was heading. Fernando frowned confused as he followed Shiro towards the Van Gogh painting.

“Well I’m sure you picked a nice round figure?” He prodded. Shiro nodded.

“Uh-huh. I did actually. A nice round zero.” Shiro stated. Before Fernando could retaliate, Shiro turned to him a hint of mischief on his face.

“A gift from Fernando Ramirez-McClain himself.”

“What?! Why you-”

“Sit down, Mr. Ramirez-McClain.” Shiro pointed towards the two chairs which Fernando reluctantly collapsed in one, Shiro sitting in the other.

“You happen to be a forger. My job happens to be catching forgers and putting them away in prison.” Shiro explained, smiling as Fernando began to sweat.

“Um yes uh, this could be very awkward.” Fernando admitted, not meeting Shiro’s eye.

“One of us has to retire.” Shiro nodded, Fernando agreeing as well.

“Yes uh…Say we flip a coin for it huh?” Fernando asked, pulling out a quarter, only for Shiro to grab it before he could do anything.

“I’ve already flipped a coin Mr. Ramirez-McClain. And you lost.” Shiro explained. Fernando grumbled, putting the change away.

“Come on now, you had a great run and you were the best. Hang up your brushes and paint and retire while you’re on top. At least do it for your son please. Lance cares very much for you and wants to see you stick around. I want Lance to be happy, which is why I’m offering you this retirement deal instead of prison. Now come on, what do you say, champ?” Shiro offered, holding out his hand. Fernando jerked himself to his feet, pacing a bit, despite Shiro’s startled confusion. After a few silent minutes of pacing, Fernando spun back towards Shiro, a gleam in his eye.

“Alright. You’ve got a deal.” He said taking Shiro’s hand and shaking on it.

They both glanced towards the stairs, hearing a set of footsteps rush down them. Lance came walking up dressed nicely for his and Shiro’s date.

“What’s up?” he asked as he kissed his father on the cheek and was about to kiss Shiro when Fernando moaned, pulling his son away, earning a pout from Shiro and a look of confusion from Lance.

“Oh Lance! My darling hijo! It’s too tragic..” Fernando took Lance’s hands in his, holding them as he bemoaned his fate for retirement, confusing Lance more.

“Please, you tell him. I’m too upset.” Fernando spoke to Shiro as he placed a hand over his eyes, missing the matching eye rolls of Lance and Shiro.

“Your Papa has seen the light I believe. He’s retiring from forgery.” Shiro informed smiling as Lance grew excited, happy his father was finally retiring and gave Shiro a huge hug.

“I’ve been trying to get him to quit for years! Thank you, thank you!” Lance cried, wrapping his arms tightly around Shiro’s neck and planting a huge kiss on his lips. Shiro chuckled, kissing back before pulling back slightly.

“You’ve got quite a remarkable man mi hijo! Very smart, and Marcel likes him too.” Fernando praised earning a few chuckles from his son and his lover.

“Good because I like him too.” Lance teased, earning a blush from Shiro at all the attention.

“Alright we’ve got a dinner date to get to. We’ll see you later Mr. Ramirez-McClain!” Shiro called, taking Lance’s hand and rushing them towards the front door. Marcel bowed gently, a smile on his face as Lance waved goodbye to him and his father as he and Shiro loaded themselves into Shiro’s car.

“Alright so dinner and a movie I’m assuming?” Shiro asked as he cranked his car on and turned to his passenger. Lance sat there, arms crossed as he gave Shiro his signature pout. Shiro’s smile instantly dropped as he gave Lance a concerned look.

“Lance what’s wrong?”

“Nothing just..still wondering if you know this still doesn’t make up for you lying to me about who you were is all.” Lance stated clearly while Shiro groaned.

“Oh Lance, I panicked and I was undercover. I would think you’d be happy I wasn’t a high society burglar and all. I couldn’t just blow away weeks worth of information all because you caught me red handed with your loaded pistol and in your underwear-”

“You're never gonna let that go are you?”

“No I’m not. Anyways, I’m very sorry for lying to you again, I promise it was only for a good reason. Please forgive me?” Shiro pleaded, giving Lance his version of a puppy dog eyes which made him pretty weak actually.

“Well..okay!” Lance leaped towards Shiro, wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

“But only because I made you swoon so hard to the point you agreed to rob a museum for me. And you have nice eyes.” Lance stated making Shiro laugh heartily.

“You do as well.” Shiro chuckled and the two embraced again, kissing each other longer until they broke apart. Shiro steered them out of the courtyard till they were cruising along Paris traffic for his first ‘official’ date with this wonderful man, who he helped steal a forged statue worth a million dollars. Love does happen in the strangest of ways.

Bonus*

“Well Marcel, I suppose we oughta go clean up the old studio. Get rid of any paintings I started working on up there. Hmm that lost Monet I could probably still keep, just to look at you know and the Cez-”

The loud buzzer disturbed Fernando as he jumped from his position on the couch, irritated for being interrupted.

“Bah! Marcel, go open the door, whoever it is just let them in and get this over with.” Fernando complained. Since the day the Cellini had gone ‘missing’ reporters had been dropping by and snooping around his private property for the past few days. It was one thing to take flash photography of him in his private moments but when they turned to cast his son in the spotlight, Fernando immediately shooed them all away. Even if he didn’t understand his son’s need to keep away from the cameras he would still respect his wish to remain anonymous and live quietly.

Fernando smoked his cigar, thinking over his last issue when Marcel entered the room looking unsure.

“It’s Mr. Haxus, sir.” He stated. Fernando sat up confused as a hesitant Mr. Haxus fidgeted in his doorway.

“Uh hello sir um I was hoping you would talk about the-the Van Gogh?” He asked. Fernando gazed back amazed until he recalled how Shiro had never given him a time limit as to when he was to retire.

“Yes..the Van Gogh.. yes, yes please do come in! Mi amigo!” He cried out joyfully as he got up and welcomed his visitor with open arms which Haxus accepted happily.

Marcel watched as the two boisterous men began speaking in Spanish dialect, discussing the masterpiece hanging in the lounge. Marcel sighed as he rolled his eyes. Master Ramirez-McClain was at it again.

 

                                                                                             The End.

 

 

 

****SNEAK PEEK*****

Shiro trailed off thinking deeply while Lance watched the frown crease on his brow. 

“Hmmm…You’re so sexy when you get into detective mode.” Lance gently teased, lowering himself to kiss the frown away, earning a surprised but gentle smile.

“Lance, come on…I’m sexy all the time.” Shiro wiggled his eyebrows, earning a snort from Lance who quickly covered his mouth, giggling quietly with Shiro doing the same underneath him.

“Stop! You’re going to get us caught!” Lance whispered as his giggling died down. Shiro giggled from underneath him, his chest bobbing up and down with Lance moving with it.

“Can’t have dear Papa catching us, can we?” Shiro murmured as he kissed along Lance’s jaw, earning a soft moan from the other.

“No, hes had enough shock for tonight as it is. I’m just glad hes okay, no injuries except for rope burn. And even he bemoaned the marks left on his wrists for an hour straight.” Lance groaned, he began thinking back on the whole evening and rolled off Shiro, the mood gone as it begun.

“God! I’m so sorry Shiro I..” Lance rubbed his face, feeling so lost while his boyfriend wrapped an arm around him, drawing the smaller male in his arms as they sat up in bed.

“Lance you don’t have to apologize. You’ve been through enough tonight as it is. You should get some rest, I know you’ll complain about your eye bags tomorrow.” Shiro pecked his boyfriend with a kiss on the nose as he smiled teasingly. Lance frowned, sticking his lower lip out further, knowing it would entice Shiro to kiss him further.

“I don’t have eye bags you dick.” Lance muttered, earning a chuckle from his boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So thanks everyone for reading! This story has been fun writing, I know I promised a sequel and its in the works but I'm sad to say theres been less motivation to write it, so it may be postponed for a bit. I wanted to include the sneak peek just because I'm mostly proud for writing that scene. I can't say when I will start working on it again but hopefully soon. 
> 
> Some good news! I started up a new series called [Hello Officer~](http://archiveofourown.org/series/779136) with cop Shiro and struggling singer Lance and their wacky adventures in this small town somewhat based off the small town I grew up around. I've got two works up already for this series and a third part is coming out soon! Hope you enjoy!
> 
> (9/9/18)Edit: Hello fronds! In case anyone noticed, I have deleted my sequel to this fic, How to Steal A Million 2, I had big plans for it but unfortunately was not able to execute them and alas I am cursed with other au ideas constantly popping up and capturing my interest. I don't have high hopes for returning to it, but I hope this one will be enough for you all to enjoy! If anyone was curious about the ending or had any questions about the sequel, feel free to message me and i'll tell you myself how it was going to end. Basicly Lance was going to wind up wearing the sexy maid uniform. I know I'm a bit sad it won't get written for all to read. Anyways, if you're in a shklance mood, come chekc out my new fic, called Blue Eyes Always Haunting Me, in case you want romance, mystery, and intrigue! Thanks for all your love and support!

**Author's Note:**

> So this is just something for fun I've been writing the past month. I'm a huge multishipper and lately Shance has been dominating my needs.
> 
> Edit: I decided to add my tumblr, (http://savetheunderwaterunicorns.tumblr.com/) in case anyone wants another shaladin support blog to follow. I don't judge and I typically support Shance, Shklance, some Sheith, and Shallura but I'm generally open to other ships and in this time, I think we could all use some support and redemption after the bullshit shaladin shippers, the creators, and the VAs have dealt with. I am a klance fan but I am absolutely disgusted with the measures most Klance fans have taken just over a two cartoon characters on a tv show. I'm sorry but wasn't shipping supposed to be fun? When did it get all serious and resort to blackmail? Maybe I'm getting old haha.


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